Braille
by Little Green Bird
Summary: AU Leyton - She's bitter, sarcastic, and has tons of walls protecting her heart. Yet, he still finds himself wishing he could see the world the way she does...even if she can't see at all. Rated M for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**: _Another definite AU. Let me apologize starting now—even though I had two versions of this chapter, deleted and rewritten large chunks of it, and took over two weeks just to get it finished…I still don't feel like my writing is at my best here. I blame college. They are working me to death and its killing my creativity in the process. But, for my own sanity, I can't stop writing once there's an idea in my head. _

_I do hope you enjoy it, though. Critique is __**definitely **__welcomed; maybe it'll kick my butt into top gear._

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The corridor leading to his dorm seems to be longer than he remembered. The large, comfortable bed—perfect for nap taking— in his room sounds really good right about now. It's been a long day, a long _week_ to be exact.

Someone falls into step next to him and playfully bumping hips. Well, more like _her_ hip bumps _his_ thigh, she's always been much shorter than him.

"Hey loser."

Lucas chuckles at his best friend's greeting, "Hi Hales."

"Can you smell that?" She sniffs the air dramatically and raises an eyebrow, "First week of the fall semester, lost little freshmen everywhere in need of guidance, struggling athletes in need of tutoring…" Her brown eyes sparkle with excitement, "Oh this is _so_ going to be great!"

"Don't you think it's a little twisted that you're this excited to be back in school?" he shakes his head, "Besides, just because _your_ husband needs tutoring doesn't mean all athletes are dimwitted. That's just stereotyping."

She whacks his chest with the back of her hand, "Nathan is _not _a dimwit! S_truggling _is the word I used. Nathan _struggles_ with math. You were just some freak exception to the struggling athlete thing."

Lucas knew Haley didn't mean anything by it, but she was right. He _was _a great athlete and student in high school. He misses the game. He misses being on that court with his brother and friend, Skills. Together, the three of them were unstoppable. But he was far from invincible. It was a life or death decision—to give up basketball or risk heart failure. The end result was the obvious choice.

"Luke?" His thoughts interrupted as Haley waves a hand in front of his face.

Lucas shakes his head, "Hm? What?"

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm just tired," he points to his door and smiles apologetically, "I was thinking about taking a nap actually."

Her brow wrinkles, "Aren't you coming to the tutor center?"

Now there's something to grin about. Everything was a competition to Lucas and Haley. When they were only five they had an eating contest to see who could eat an entire bowl of macaroni and cheese the fastest. She may seem sweet and petite, but the girl was always the victorious one—eating contests, spelling bees, science fairs, miniature golf challenges, and valedictorian of their graduating class…she even got married at sixteen. Lucas was determined to have something, _anything_, before Haley.

This was it.

"Nope, I'm not working at the center anymore," the feeling of sweet triumph swells in his chest, "I'm tutoring some high school kid privately now. Well, more like home schooling. I start tonight."

"Shut up!" Haley slaps his chest again in disbelief. Oh yes, sweet victory. "That is _so _cool! Why didn't I know about this?!"

Lucas unlocks his door and shrugs, "I don't know, maybe I'm better suited for the job."

"But…I-I'm the best the tutor center's got…" She says weakly.

"They love you at the center, Hales. They need you there more than they need me," He steps into his room and turns around with a playful grin, "Or…you know…maybe I _am _the best."

She squints at him, "I bet it's going to be some uptight, spoiled brat."

He shrugs, "I'm still better than you."

Haley's jaw drops as he closes the door between them.

Yes. Victory is definitely sweet.

- - - -

It's a big house. Not exactly a mansion or anything, it's just…big. Bigger than his mother's house in Tree Hill, that's for sure. Maybe Haley was right, what if this kid was some spoiled brat that made him wish he stayed at the tutor center?

Smoothing a hand over his light blue button up, he decides to just get this over with. He heard that they'll be paying him good money for this anyway.

A few seconds after he knocks, the door swings open and Lucas is instantly intimidated. This must be the kid's father.

The man is wearing an expensive pair of black slacks, a crisp white button up, and a pair of shiny black dress shoes. His dark, wavy hair is styled to perfection. His light brown eyes narrow and he crosses his arms over his chest.

Lucas smiles nervously, "Hi, I'm—"

"They didn't tell me they were sending a boy." The man cuts him off.

"Sir, I assure you I'm more than qualified for the job."

He scoffs, "You sure are full of yourself kid."

He walks away and Lucas doesn't know what to do. Should he wait to be invited inside, or follow this extremely blunt stranger?

The man turns and looks at him expectantly, "Well? Are you going to come in or are you going to just stand there and waste my air conditioning?"

If he were being honest he would take the third option—run like hell in the other direction. But instead he shoves his hands into his pockets and steps in, just enough to close the door behind him.

"Sit down kid," he's standing in the living area, pointing to the couch. Lucas does as he's told, he's afraid of what will happen if he dared to disobey this man's request.

"The university told me you were the best, a sensitive but determined kid with a lot of patience. Is that right?"

"Yes, Sir, I am. I—"

"Let's get a few things straight," He raises his firm voice, "I already don't like you, but if they say you're the best then I'll take it. My daughter means the world to me and she deserves the best. You are not allowed to ask any questions that do not pertain to her educational well-being. You are not to speak, touch, look, or even _breathe _inappropriately in my little girl's presence or so help me god—"

"Sir," Lucas daringly interrupts, "I was raised by a single mother for seventeen years. If there's one thing she taught me well it was to show respect to all women. Your daughter will be no exception, I promise."

His brown eyes fall into a squint, "How old are you boy?"

"Nineteen. I'm in my second year at the university."

"How long have you been tutoring?"

"Since my senior year of high school, my best friend Haley suggested it to me."

"Haley? Your best friend is a girl?"

Lucas really wanted to furrow his brow or kink an eyebrow, but he withheld, "Um, yes. Yes. She has been for fifteen years, Sir."

"I see." He nods, deep in thought before his brown eyes meet Lucas' once more. He points a finger as he continues, "I like that you call me 'Sir'," then he holds out his hand, "But for the record, I'm Larry Sawyer."

"Lucas Scott," Lucas stands and lets out a breath of relief as they shake hands.

"Lucas…" Larry shakes his head, "No, I'll call you Tutor Boy. I like that much better." Lucas slightly cringes. Larry takes no notice, "And don't think you're off the hook yet. I still don't like you whether you call me Sir or not. You will _keep_ calling me Sir if you know what's good for you, though."

Oh boy.

"And just because I'm being civil with you…"

Civil? _This _is him being _civil_?

"…doesn't mean Peyton will be taking a liking to ya'. She's a tough one."

"Peyton?"

"My daughter, the one you'll be homeschooling. Come, I'll introduce you two," Larry leads Lucas out of the living room, "How do you feel about dogs? You're not allergic, are you?"

- -

Lucas is fully convinced that this man hates him. This wasn't going to be an easy job—being better than Haley has suddenly lost its appeal. When he realizes they are heading for the backyard, Lucas looks at Larry with a questionable glance.

"Mr. Sawyer—"

"Sir. Call me Sir, it makes me feel important."

"Um, _Sir_…" Lucas shakes his head. This was just getting out of hand.

"Peyton!" Larry cuts Lucas off for the…well, he's lost count already but it's starting to become a habit. A _very _annoying habit.

Lucas follows Larry's gaze before settling on the large tree in the far corner of the yard. There, sitting on a wooden swing, a young, curly-haired blonde is sitting with her back to them. A golden retriever is planted firmly in the grass beside her, panting and wagging his tail as his owner scratches his ear.

"Peyton!!" Larry calls again, but the girl doesn't move. His hands rest on his hips and he shakes his head, "Damn girl's got that music on full blast again. Come on."

They reach the tree and Luca stops a few steps behind the girl; his mother always said that it was impolite to intrude. Larry, however, walks right up to her and pulls one of the ear buds out.

"Peyton, there's someone here I'd like you to meet."

"That's nice."

Her voice is soft, but the annoyance in her tone sets off about a dozen alarms in Lucas' head. Right off the bat, he knows she isn't going to make his job any easier.

"Peyton, please" Larry says tiredly.

Sighing heavily, she pulls the other plug out and pushes off the swing. Larry waves Lucas over just as Peyton turns to face them. He can't help when his lower jaw falls open. He really wasn't expecting to face such beauty and just couldn't stop staring.

Her golden blonde curls reach her shoulder blades and framed her porcelain-like skin. He could see the curves of her slender figure, even if she was wearing a pair of faded blue jeans and a loose tee shirt. But it was her green eyes that captivated him the most. Never had he seen eyes like hers before.

Those very same green eyes weren't looking at him, though. She was looking past him and he suddenly feels like a creep for staring.

While holding out his hand, he smiles and says, "Hi, I'm Lucas."

She doesn't shake his hand, or even look at him. Feeling like an even bigger idiot than before, he drops his hand awkwardly. Peyton sighs heavily and her shoulders sag.

"You didn't tell him, did you?" she addresses her father. Lucas looks at Larry expectantly.

"Tell me what?"

Larry scratches an eyebrow and makes a face, "I, I may have forgotten to mention one little…_important _detail about my daughter."

"_Sure_ you did," her accusation brings Lucas' gaze back to her. That's when realization hits him and he suddenly wants to hit _himself_ for not realizing it sooner.

"Lucas," Larry begins, watching as the blue-eyed blonde stares at his seventeen year old daughter, "Peyton's blind."

Lucas blinks a couple times. He doesn't want to be rude but he can't bring himself to look away from the curly blonde.

"Oh."

_Oh_? That's all he's got? _Oh_?!

"Oh?" Peyton scoffs, "You've got to be kidding me. You really picked a smart one, Dad."

"_Peyton_."

A bitter laugh falls from her lips; she inserts the ear buds back into her ears and sits back down on the swing. Larry pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration while turning to Lucas.

"I…I'm sorry, she's…shy."

"Shy?" Lucas deadpans, "That's not shy, that's being—"

Larry points a finger, "Watch it."

"Sorry."

"Look," Larry tilts his head back, looking at the sky for a split second, then sighs heavily, "The last instructor lasted seven years and it was no different. It's nothing personal. Peyton's just…a little tough sometimes."

"Right."

"Instructions, guides, how-to's, textbooks, an office—I've got everything you need here. It's every Tuesday and Thursday evening, Saturday mornings if you can. I understand that you are a student, too. I've got a guest bedroom to your disposal if any session runs overtime and you need to spend the night. I'll pay whatever you want, anything at all. What do you say? You want the job or not?"

He wanted to say no. What does he know about teaching the blind? The girl had an attitude that made him want to run for the hills. She seems to already hate him after speaking two words to each other. Her father said, very bluntly, that he already doesn't like him.

This is too much.

But Lucas looks back down, watching her swing back and forth while listening to the her music. He doesn't know why, but he's drawn to her and he wants to help.

With a deep breath, he nods, "Okay."

"Good," Larry smiles as they shake hands. He takes a look at his watch and claps, "Alright, well I've got to get going. Stay as long as you'd like," his gaze falls on Peyton, "Uh…get to know each other a little better. It'll be good for you!"

Lucas opens his mouth, but before he has a chance to speak Larry is already halfway through the gate. Hesitantly, he looks back at Peyton and stuffs his hands into his pockets. The dog sitting beside her looks up and tilts its head. Lucas chuckles and holds out a hand, palm up, and the dog stretches its neck out. His nostrils flare as he sniffs Lucas' outstretched hand. He audibly huffs through his nose before resuming his previous stance beside Peyton.

"I guess you're the new babysitter then."

Her voice catches him off guard. Wasn't she listening to her music? Had she been listening to them this entire time?

"I'm, um, no." He shifts his weight uncomfortably, "I'm your new tutor."

"Trust me," She says firmly, pulling out her ear buds for the second time, "He's never around so you're a babysitter."

"Really?" His eyebrows shoot up, "He didn't mention anything about that."

"You realize you're talking about the same person that 'forgot' to tell you I'm blind, right?" Peyton points out with a little smirk playing at her lips, "I wouldn't put it past him to 'forget' other details. I'm just surprised he even hired you."

"I'm good at what I do."

"If you say so."

That somehow feels like a low blow to his ego.

"What's that suppose to mean?"

She shrugs nonchalantly, "You're a guy."

"I'm aware of that," Lucas crosses his arms over his chest.

"My dad isn't a big fan of boys coming anywhere near his little girl," She chuckles softly and Lucas has to smile at the sound. Then her smile disappears and her expression becomes solemn, "…or anyone else for that matter."

She blinks a couple times while clearing her throat. Lucas' smile starts to fade as he watches how quickly she closes herself off.

"Y-You can go now. You don't have to stay." Peyton stammers.

He shakes his head, needlessly, "Peyton—"

"I'd like it if you'd just leave."

Sawyers. Apparently they have a knack for cutting people off. But he didn't want to get on her bad side more than he already was.

"Okay," He replies softly, staring at her for a bit longer before walking away. He makes sure to secure the latch on the gate before heading back to his car.

At sound of the gate closing, Peyton slightly shifts on the swing while holding out her hand. The gold retriever springs up and pads closer until her hand brushes against his wet nose.

"What'd you think Comet?" The dog huffs, making his lips flap. Peyton chuckles as his tongue brushes against her fingertips, "Yeah? I thought so too."

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_**Let me know what you think so far, please and thank you!**_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Please Read:**

_Alright. I think it's about time I step up and ask for help when I need it. School is way too hectic and trying to proof-read is very time consuming. So to get these updates to you guys in timely fashion...__I need a Beta reader__. Never had one and never really knew what they were but it would help me tons. Just send me a PM if you are interested. Thanks._

_I'd like to just take a minute to give a big thank you to all the reviewers and readers that are interested in this story. I'm aware that not everyone is open to the idea of 'another blind story' and, you know what, that's fine with me. I can't make everyone like me or the things I write. But I'm extremely grateful for those who are giving this story a chance and are willing to be patient with me. Thank you guys a million. It means a lot!  
_

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**Chapter 2**

**- - - -  
**

"No."

"Peyton, come on."

"No!"

He sighs heavily, setting the text book down on the coffee table. It's his first day, not even fifteen minutes into their session, and Peyton's giving him a hard time.

Why was he doing this again?

Oh, that's right…because Haley made it perfectly clear that she would gladly take his position, and _totally_ rock at it. She really didn't think he could do it.

"Peyton—"

"You already know I'm going to say no."

"Then how about you say yes?" His says in a mockingly sweet tone. He should have known better than to challenge Peyton Sawyer's resistance.

With a fake smile plastered on her lips, she mocks him, "Gee, Lucas, when you put it that way…" Her face drops, "It's still no."

Lucas groans as he throws himself back onto the sofa chair across from her. She's got her feet propped up on the coffee table and that quirky dog of hers is right beside her, his head resting lazily on her lap. Her slender fingers thread through Comet's fur and Lucas can't help but roll his blue eyes.

"Your dad is not paying me to watch you sit there and pet your dog."

She turns her head in his direction and kinks an eyebrow.

"Do you see him anywhere? Is he watching to see whether or not you're teaching me anything? _No_. And here's the thing," she leans forward, moving her hand over the coffee table until she feels the textbook. She then holds it up, "I learned this when I was fourteen, when I was fifteen, again at sixteen, and—frankly—I'd rather not waste another year 'learning' something I already know." She harshly tosses the book back onto the coffee table, "Like I said, you are just the new babysitter, _Mr. Scott_."

Lucas had an abnormally high tolerance for stubborn students, but she was really starting to test his patience.

"What do you want me to do then?" He leans toward her, resting his elbows on his knees and wearing a scowl he knew she couldn't see.

"Do whatever the hell you want. As long as you keep showing up, my dad will pay you. What is it? One hundred? Two hundred per session?"

Lucas doesn't say anything. He and Larry did settle on a payment plan, a _very_ generous payment, but he didn't feel comfortable discussing this with her.

Peyton sighs heavily as she stands. Not exactly sure what he's supposed to do, Lucas immediately does the same. Should he help her? Is he supposed to follow her? Oh hell. Maybe Haley was right, what if he really wasn't cut out for this?

Comet hops off the sofa and brushes up against Peyton's jean clad shin. She starts walking in the same direction the dog moves, sort of like he's guiding her without a leash.

"Do what ever you want, Lucas. Study, watch some stupid sport on TV, sleep, smoke—"

"I don't smoke. Or do drugs." He feels the need to make that perfectly clear.

She kinks an eyebrow again and smirks, "Fine. Just…whatever you do with your time, I won't say a word. I'll stay out of your way if you stay out of mine."

"But—"

"Do you want the money or not?"

He's not going to lie.

"…Yes."

"Then don't make this any harder than it has to be."

Lucas watches her turn away as she continues walking toward the staircase. Her fingertips drag across the wall, guiding her with Comet's assistance.

This doesn't feel right. Could he really take the money without doing what he was hired to do? She seemed _very_ okay with it…he _did _have a lot of assignments to work on…and the pay was really, _really_ good…

He heard her bedroom door close upstairs followed by the sound of music travelling throughout the house. He had to admit, she had good taste in music. Lucas shakes his head, standing from the sofa and entering the hall where he left his backpack.

She convinced him, though it really didn't take much for him to cave. First day on the job and she already manipulated the hell out of this crazy situation.

With the way things are already going…it was _definitely_ going to get interesting.

- - - -

Over the next few weeks, Larry's office quickly became Lucas' study area. He had to admit, this set-up was not too shabby. The library on campus was full of obnoxiously loud study groups that didn't know the meaning of silence or whispering. His roommate's girlfriend was always in their dorm and…well, let's just say Lucas would rather not have front row seats to _that_ show.

Lucas stopped reading mid-paragraph, suddenly realizing the house's abnormal silence. Peyton's music would be blaring right about now. His head snaps up at sound of someone clearing their throat. She's standing in the doorway and his brow knits together in concern.

"Hey, you alright?" He asks as he slowly stands, taking a few steps toward her.

Peyton nervously wraps an arm around her midsection, nodding, "Um, yeah…"

He's not convinced, not for a second, "Peyton, what's wrong."

"Nothing, I-I just…"she trails off and sighs, "Could…I mean…can you do me a-a…a favor?"

"A favor?" He smirks as he crosses his arms over his chest, "What happened to going our separate ways? Your exact words were 'I'll stay out of your way if you stay out of mine'. Were they not?"

"Lucas…"

The way she says his name, it's different this time. It doesn't sound like she's using it as some kind of punching bag for her sarcastic remarks. Her button nose doesn't crinkle and that crease in her forehead is not the same one when she's annoyed. It's almost like she's begging him, like it's killing her to even ask for a favor.

"Alright," he breathes out, "What is it?"

She holds up an envelope, already torn open and a letter hanging out, "Do you mind? Can you—um…can you read it to me?"

His expression immediately softens as he nods. _Idiot_. She can't see you nod! He quickly shakes his head and a soft chuckle falls from his lips.

"Sorry, of course. Come on."

Placing a hand on her shoulder, he leads her into the room and Comet trails closely behind. Once they sit on the sofa near the window, Lucas notices that she's wrapped her arms around her midsection and there's a light blush rising in her cheeks.

"Are you sure you—"

Peyton holds up a hand to cut him off, "Just…read it. Please."

He stares at her for a minute or two before unfolding the loose-leaf sheet of paper. It's short. The pink, loopy handwriting just screams 'a girl wrote this'. Lucas has to chuckle at the little purple hearts drawn in the corners. His blue eyes flicker up to Peyton, she's not sharing the same amount of amusement as he is. There's a stoic expression on her features and those slim fingers are fiddling with the seam of her blue jeans. Lucas clears his throat as he looks back down.

"Hey P. Sawyer…" he begins reading out loud, "How's Tree Hill? You should definitely come visit me some time! You'd love the Californian beaches and the shirtless hotties."

Lucas pauses as his brow furrows. He looks up just in time to see Peyton swallow thickly.

"Peyton—"

"Keep going," she says softly.

Taking a deep breath, he does as he's asked.

"You should see them P. At the end of the summer I had this amazing beach party to kick-off our senior year. The place was crawling with barely clothed surfers and lifeguards. All that shaggy hair and skin, they would have had you drooling in no time. I know I was! Anyway…" Lucas pauses to shake his head, "Senior year is finally here. We've been looking forward to this since we were in grade school and…" he kinks an eyebrow, "_…stuffing our bras…_"

Briefly glancing up, he catches the deep, crimson blush filling Peyton's cheeks.

"…Even though I'm excited, I'm completely bummed out that we won't get to share this together. I still remember when we said you could be homecoming queen as long as I'd get to win prom queen. We promised to go prom dress shopping together and fight over who would have the hottest date. (It so would have been me!)…"

Lucas pauses once more at the sound of Peyton sniffling. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see her wipe her cheeks discretely.

"…I miss all of that P. But one day, when you or I get married, we'll make up for all that prom hype we are going to miss out on together. Your scrawny ass better not replace me as your best friend or maid-of-honor or I'm coming down there to kick your ass! Sorry this is so short, I'm in class and Mr. Perkins is giving me the stink eye. Miss you tons and love you lots…Brooke."

Reading this 'Brooke' person's letter left a foul taste in his mouth. What he really wanted to was ball up the letter and feed it to the dog, but instead he folds it neatly. His gaze slowly travels back up to see Peyton's reaction. The tears have been wiped away from her cheeks, but Lucas can still see the droplets clinging to her lower lashes. The corners of her lips twitch in a feeble attempt to smile in appreciation.

"Thanks," she whispers.

Lucas stuffs the letter back into the envelope and shakes his head, "Don't thank me. That's the most insensitive piece of crap I've ever read."

He shoves the letter back into her hands and leaves the sofa. Her brow knits together as she follows the sound of his footsteps. He's walking away from her, most likely toward the desk and it pisses her off.

"_Excuse_ _me_?" Her tone peaks, "Brooke is my best friend, my _only_ friend. Who do you think you are calling her insensitive?!"

"A letter, Peyton, she wrote you a _letter_. You can't _read _it! Is she really that dense?! It's like she hasn't got a clue that you're blind!"

"Of course she knows! It's not like she has a machine that types in Braille! What else was she suppose to do?"

Lucas sits behind the desk, placing his hands on the wood and leaning forward, "There's this thing called a telephone. I'm pretty sure she has one of those."

"She's a busy person," Peyton reasons pathetically.

Lucas scoffs, "Insensitive is what she is. She's talking to you like you've got the option to see these things!"

Peyton shoots up from the sofa, tripping over her own feet as she approaches the desk. Her hands slam down on the wood surface when she reaches her destination. Lucas quickly sits back in his chair; her eyes may not be looking directly at him, but the fire in her eyes still stuns him.

"Exactly," she rasps, holding the envelope up, "This—the letters she sends me—they make me feel _normal_. Brooke is the _only _one that doesn't act like I'm some handicap. Not once has she treated me any differently because that's exactly what I need, _not_ because she's insensitive!" Peyton slams the hand holding the envelope back down onto the desk. "Maybe I can't fucking read it, but that's why I asked you to do me the favor, you jackass."

The both flinch at the sound of Comet's bark. Lucas, however, cannot take his eyes off of her. She's standing there, blinking back tears, breathing heavily, and clearly pissed off. He wants to say something. Apologize. Keep arguing. _Anything_. But he can't seem to form a damn single coherent thought in his head.

Peyton straightens and immediately starts to back away. She doesn't even wait for Comet's assistance, she just wants out.

"Peyton…"

Finally! Words! He actually said something!

"Save it Lucas," she says firmly, not bothering to turn around or slow down, "You were right. Just stay the hell out of my way."

He sinks back into the chair as she exits. In a matter of seconds Peyton went from just hating him, to hating him with a fiery passion.

Smooth move, Lucas, smooth…

- - - -

"And you just caved?" Haley deadpans.

"What was I suppose to do?" Lucas shrugs, "Tie her down and force her to do as I say?"

"Woah," Nathan takes a seat next to Haley. His widened blue eyes on his brother, "Who are we tying and _what _are we forcing them to do?!"

Haley shoves him lightly, "We're talking about Lucas' student."

Nathan turns back to Lucas and raises a brow, "Dude, you're hooking up with the blind chick?!"

"Nate," Lucas chuckles, shaking his head, "You're an idiot. She's just giving me a hard time s'all."

"I can't believe you just let her push you around like that," Haley pops a grape into her mouth, shaking her head.

"Alright, what would you have done then?" He leans forward on the cafeteria table, humoring her.

"I would have slapped some sense into the bitch's head."

"Haley!" Nathan cries out in surprise and Lucas' eyes widen.

"What?!" She shrieks, holding up her hands and looking between the Scotts. "Oh come on, she's being a brat!"

"You don't have to resort to violence!" Nathan reasons.

Haley squints at him, "You're one to talk. I've had to hold you back when people just look at you funny."

Nathan says nothing as he grimaces.

Lucas sighs heavily, "She just wants to be treated like a normal person, Hales. I don't want to be too hard on her."

"Okay, _that_," Haley points at him, "is giving her special treatment. If she wants to be treated like everyone else then you've got to do your job. You know what you've got to do, Luke."

She was right. He was going to have to get tough if he wanted to rival Peyton's stubborn demeanor.

- - - -

The large stack of books thud loudly and Peyton shoots up into a seated position.

"What—"

"You were right," Lucas cuts her off. "You shouldn't be treated any differently."

Her features harden, "This is my room."

"Thank you for pointing that out," Lucas says dryly.

Her legs swing off the bed and she starts walking toward him. When her outstretched arm brushes against his arm, she angrily places her hands on her hips.

"What are you doing in here? _This is my room_. "

Lucas grabs one of the books from the desk. He takes her wrist, facing her palm up, and places the book in her hand.

"This is your assignment. I couldn't find any copies in Braille so I got audio books instead."

"I told you—"

"I know what you said," he raises his voice, "but you also said that you want to be treated like everyone else, right? Well, I've never let any of my students act like a smartass or give up and it's not going to start with you either. If you don't want to do the work your father left, that's fine. But you are going to do as _I_ say."

Peyton scoffs, "Really."

"I was hired to be your tutor and that's exactly what I am going to do, whether you like it or not. Have the first one finished by this time next week and be prepared to talk about it. I'll be quizzing you on your knowledge."

She hears his footsteps heading toward her door. Who the hell does this guy think he is?!

"And what makes you so sure I'm going to listen to you?" She calls after him.

Lucas pauses with a grin on his face, "I'm not."

"Then why should I?"

"Because you want to prove me wrong," he says over his shoulder as he walks out. A deep scowl tugs at her facial features and she crosses her arms over her chest.

Damn it. How did he know her so well?

Fifteen minutes later, Lucas is sitting in Larry's study when a smirk graces his lips.

The first few lines of _Brave New World_, coming from Peyton's bedroom, were like music to his ears.

- - - -

It's been six weeks. Six weeks since he first met Peyton Elizabeth Sawyer and became her tutor. She proved to be difficult, unbelievably stubborn, but most of all—_incredibly_ intelligent. When he challenged her to prove him wrong, she did just that. Not only had Peyton completed the first book, but the second…and the third…and the fourth, all the way up to the last book. Lucas tested her knowledge and comprehension, the interrogation barely fazed her. Needless to say, Lucas had definitely met his match aside from Haley.

He could have assigned more. He definitely could have played this game until she cracked or showed him some respect. But he didn't. Instead they went back to their previous arrangements. Well, sort of.

Lucas would work on his assignments and Peyton would be right there, giving her two cents whether Lucas liked it or not. She always had something to say and she would be damned if her word was not the last. In fact, she seemed to actually enjoy discussing literature with him. Well…more like she enjoyed the inevitable heated arguments from their discussions. It was so easy to get him worked up.

They're in Larry's study; she's on the couch, lying on her back, and he's sitting behind the desk. Six weeks ago they could barely spend five minutes in a room together without some kind of insult being thrown at the other.

But that didn't mean it was always civil between the two.

Kind of like right now.

Lucas squints at her, "Bullshit? How is that bullshit?!"

Peyton sits up, Comet propping up beside her, and she shakes her head in Lucas' general direction, "The ending is a cop out!"

"Nooo, it's not," Lucas drags out, looking back down at the novel in his hands, "Gordon secretly wanted to conform all along, Orwell just ended it by giving the character what he wants."

"Bullshit," she repeats, "The guy rebelled the entire story, hated capitalism with _such _a passion, and devoted so much of _himself_ into that poem…and then he _just_ throws it all away in the end? Literally, Luke, he _threw_ it all away!" She's on a full rant and he's just enjoying it, "And for what? Because Rosemary's '_pregnant'_?! _That's_ bullshit."

"So what you're saying is…" Lucas rounds the desk and leans on the edge with his arms crossed over his chest. He listens to her with a little smirk playing at his lips, "You think she's trapping him?"

"I bet she's not even pregnant. The entire story the girl's been trying to change the poor guy and trap him. What better way than to claim that you're pregnant."

"Is that so?"

"Yes." Her brow furrows and suddenly she doesn't seem so sure of herself, "At least…well, I _think_ so. You're the college guy. What do I know, right?"

Lucas' face softens and he smiles, "Don't sell yourself short, Peyt. You're a lot smarter than you think."

They fall silent and Lucas watches the pensive look on her face.

He had a feeling she didn't get compliments like that very often. Why couldn't he father see same potential in Peyton? She was far too intelligent for the materials Larry insisted on teaching her for the past few years. Then again, true to Peyton's word, Larry was never around to see his daughter's intelligence. She may not open up to him much, but Lucas could still see the greatness in her.

"Go ahead," Peyton says firmly.

"Go ahead what?"

"Ask."

"What are you—"

"I know you've got questions," he watches her profile intently, "You're wonder if I've always been this way. I'm sure you've noticed that my dad's never here…and I'm pretty sure you've noticed that there isn't a Mrs. Sawyer around. So just ask."

Larry's threats from the first day echo in Lucas' head. He warned him about asking Peyton personal questions, but he can't deny the curiosity. The more time he and Peyton spent together, the more Lucas found himself caring for her.

And he just…he couldn't _stop_.

"No, Peyt, I wasn't—" Lucas quickly shakes his head.

"You want to know so just ask."

"How…how long? I mean—"

The sound of heavy footsteps cuts Lucas off.

"I'm home!" Larry pops his head into the office, "how's everything in here?"

Lucas looks to Peyton, a small smile forming on her lips.

"Good, everything's fine daddy," she responds.

Larry's eyes settle on Lucas.

His lips form a tight line as he nods curtly, "Tutor Boy." He says before backing out of the room.

"I was ten years old." Lucas' eyes snap back to Peyton, "My mom was driving and I was in the backseat when the truck hit us. I lost my eyesight and my mom died."

He swallows thickly, "You didn't have to tell me that."

"I know…" Peyton nods, "but I wanted to."

"Why?" He tilts his head in wonder.

"Because it feels good to tell someone that doesn't already know…" She trails off as her voice becomes softer, "and just because you're you."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Very sorry for the delay guys. School as always! On the bright side, I've got the majority of my assignments for one class done during this month and I've been guaranteed an A at the end of the semester. Tons and tons of writing assignments still ahead of me though. Sigh.

Anyway. Point of this author's note is to give credit where credit is due, a _huge_ thank you to my beta Kate (Peyt4Luke4Eva). She's a lifesaver.

I hope you enjoy the chapter! You've all been great!

* * *

**Chapter 3**

…_You're you._

_You're you._

Those words were ingrained in Lucas' memory. The vulnerability and sincerity in her voice…What did she mean by '_you're you'_?

"Lucas."

His blue eyes snapped up to his brother's matching blue irises looking down at him.

"You alright, man?" Nathan held the basketball against his hip. "You kind of zoned out for a minute there."

Lucas shook his head, clapping his hands together for the ball, "I guess I'm just a little tired."

"Tired? Alright, no more ball for you."

"Come on! I'm fine, Nate, five more minutes won't hurt."

Nathan pointed to bench, "Sit."

Lucas rolled his eyes as he takes a seat, "You sound like your wife."

"I need to if you're going to listen to me."

Nathan chuckles as he takes a shot. Without fail—a three-pointer and nothing but net. He turns back to Lucas, arms crossed over his chest and a raised eyebrow.

"Or at least Haley _used_ to be the only girl with some kind of power over you," he tilted his head to a side, "Other than your mom, I mean."

Lucas squinted at him, "What are you talking about?"

"That Peyton chick has got you wrapped around her little finger."

"I don't think so," Lucas dismissed him, taking a drink from his water bottle.

Truth be told, she kind of did.

If Peyton wanted to sit outside instead of tutoring, Lucas wouldn't argue and provided her with company. He would read silently while she would lie in the grass, stroking Comet's blonde fur. If she showed interest in his assigned reading, he'd gladly read a chapter or two out loud and listen to her rant.

Sure, sometimes he'd put his foot down and give her an assignment for the week. There were times when she would complete them without complaint, and there were days when they'd get into heated arguments. She'd call him a 'pathetic, uptight geek with no life'. He'd call her a 'the most infuriating woman on the entire planet'. She would slam doors and he would leave the assignments outside her door—they'd be done by the next morning.

It was a love-hate relationship between the two. Minus the love.

"Is she at least hot?" Nathan asked.

"Is she—what? She's my student!"

"Doesn't mean you can't look," Nathan reasoned, "Besides, she's got to be hot if you let her be such a bitch to you."

Lucas glared at Nathan, "Peyton's not a bitch. Stubborn? Yes. Bitch? No."

"So," Nathan dragged out, "are you saying she's hot?"

"Shut up," Lucas threw his head back in laughter.

He didn't answer Nathan. But he didn't exactly say no either.

- - - -

After a light rap on the front door, Lucas entered the Sawyer household. Knocking, however, was unnecessary. As expected, Comet barked loudly and the sound of his large paws bounding toward the front door signaled Peyton and Larry of Lucas' arrival.

As soon as Lucas set his backpack outside the study, Comet stood on his hind legs and pawed Lucas' back. The blonde turned and stroked the golden fur behind Comet's ear.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Lucas."

"April, please," He shook his head at the housekeeper, "just call me Lucas. None of this mister business."

"Let me help you with that," He pointed to the loaded laundry basket twice the size of the elderly woman. Before she could voice any protests, Lucas took the basket from her and April smiled gratefully.

"Where do you want it?"

April gestures toward the basement door and led the way.

"I was just taking it to the wash. Have you had lunch? I can whip up something nice for you."

"Thanks, but I'm fine," Lucas shook his head, setting the basket down next to the washing machine, "Don't overwork yourself on my account, April."

She smiled, patting his cheek.

"You're such a sweet boy, Lucas. If only you were a little older!"

Her grey hair, rosy cheeks, and tiny half-moon specs perched on the tip of her pale button nose always made Lucas chuckle. He once called her "Mrs. Claus" out loud, thinking no one heard him. It was the first time he heard a giggle coming from Peyton's general direction. To this day he's still skeptical if it really happened. By the time he had turned around she had turn away with a straight face. Imagined or not, it was the most beautiful sound he had the pleasure of hearing.

Lucas smiled at April until a pair of Peyton's black lace panties caught his eye. An instant image of Peyton _wearing_ them filled his mind.

Quickly looking away, Lucas cleared his throat and started to walk backwards toward the staircase, "I, I'm just going to go find Peyton."

Desperately trying to picture something other than Peyton in her underwear (not that it was unpleasant, quite the contrary…), Lucas squeezed his eyes shut as he jogged up the remaining steps.

_Stop it. Stop it. Stop it._

"Lucas."

His blue eyes snapped open, meeting a hardened pair of brown eyes staring back at him.

_Oh shit_.

"M-Mr. Sawyer. I…"

Uncrossing his arms, Larry placed a hand on Lucas' shoulder. The man was completely oblivious the boy's nervous behavior or that he had just pictured his seventeen year old daughter half naked. If only he knew, he definitely wouldn't be addressing the little pervert so calmly.

"This Hannah friend of yours—"

"Haley." Lucas corrected

"Yes, Haley. That's right. Is she a good person?"

"Practically a saint, sir."

"Good…good. So do you…" Larry took a deep breath and rubbed his chin, "You think she'd mind spending time with Peyton?"

"I, uh, I don't see why it wouldn't work. Haley is very open-minded."

Larry smiled, "Great! So you can set something up for this weekend, right?"

Lucas barely sucked in a breath to respond when Larry slapped him on the back, "Thanks, Tutor Boy. I'll be sure to add a bonus to your next check! I'll be in the yard if you guys need me for anything!"

His mouth fell open as he watched Larry walk away.

A bonus? Did—Did he just…

A loud thump came from the study.

"Ow!"

Standing in the doorway with an amused smirk, Lucas crossed his arms over his chest and watched her. Peyton stood on her tippy-toes, reaching for a shelf that her fingertips could barely reach. Her black t-shirt didn't quite meet her blue jeans, leaving the creamy strip of flesh of her lower back exposed. The black lace he saw earlier and that sliver of exposed skin had Lucas' mind wandering to places it shouldn't be. His knuckles knocked against the doorframe, startling her. Peyton's arms snapped to her sides and she turned her attention to the doorway.

"Luke?"

He had to smile at her use of his nickname.

"Does your dad have a cookie jar up there or something?"

Her cheeks turned a light shade of pink as she shook her head. Lucas' brow furrowed for a second as he watched her move to the couch. His hand shot out, gently touching her shoulder.

"I've got some work for you to do today," there was an excited look in his eyes as he guided a confused Peyton to the desk. "Sit here. I'll be right back."

Peyton didn't even get a chance to complain. She heard his quick footsteps fading out toward the hall. Hearing his return, Peyton nervously placed her hands on her lap as she listened to his every move. Lucas hovered over her slightly as he placed something on the desk in front of her.

She shifted in the chair, "Am I—I can move if—"

"No, no," Lucas quickly assured her, "Give me your hands."

Peyton tensed.

"What?!"

He chuckled softly, "Just…just give me your hands. Come on."

"W-why? What are you going to do?"

"Peyt."

"Don't 'Peyt' me!" She moved to stand as she rambled nervously, "You don't just tell a girl to hold out her hands and—"

Lucas leaned forward, placing bracing a hand against the wooden desktop on either side of Peyton, boxing her in so she couldn't leave. He was close. So close that she was forced to sit back down in silence. So close that she could smell his cologne and feel the added warmth of his body heat mingling with hers.

"Peyt," his deep, gentle voice breathed into her right ear. She hoped he didn't notice how her heart suddenly started pounding in her chest. "Can you _please_ give me your hands?"

How could she say no to that?

Slowly lifting her hands from her lap, Peyton surrendered to his request and Lucas grinned in appreciation. The palm of his large hand lightly touched the back of her right hand. When she didn't pull away, he touched his left hand to her left. There was a moment of hesitation on Lucas' part, feeling her soft hands against his calloused ones made his heart skip a beat. But his heart wasn't allowed to skip or beat or even feel any sort of anything, this was his student. He was there to teach, _not_ feel.

Lucas aligned their fingers as he guided her hands over the desk. He placed her finger tips on the keys and Peyton turned her head toward him with a confused look on her face. They were only inches apart. Lucas didn't know if she knew that, but he made no effort to move away.

"What is this?" She asked.

"This," she could hear the smile in his voice, "is your next lesson. I'm going to teach you how to type."

"_Type_?" Her nose crinkled in that cute way that always made Lucas chuckle, "Luke, I can't see what keys I'm pressing. How am I going to type?!"

"You feel this bump?" His index finger applied pressure on hers and she nodded, "Your left index finger is on the 'F' and your right is on the 'J'." he adjusted each of her fingertips on the correct keys. "Your fingers are on the 'home keys', you keep your fingers here and memorize which finger corresponds to the letter key."

Peyton's shoulders sagged as she dropped her hands and shook her head, "I-I don't know. It sounds complicated."

"It's not easy but…" He looked at her with a smile, "then you'll be able to write to Brooke all by yourself."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He could see she wasn't fully convinced. Tilting his head toward her, he lightly tapped their temples together with a chuckle.

"Try it. I'll teach you where the keys are and help you."

She sighed heavily, "I'm going to really suck at this."

"So you'll suck," he shrugged, "Nobody will know but me."

"You won't make fun of me?"

His blue eyes narrowed, "Since when do you care what I think?"

To hide her embarrassment, Peyton lifted her hands once more, nearly smacking Lucas in the face.

"Work your magic Scott."

Lucas laughed as he took her hands in his once more.

As the lesson progressed, Lucas' hand started to linger on hers a little longer than necessary. Peyton began to notice how he would lean in closer each time he looked over her shoulder and how she would miss the smell of his cologne each time he pulled back.

He was beginning to think this was his best idea yet.

Peyton didn't complain. Not even once.

- - - -

"Why am I involved in this again?"

"I'm not really sure but just…just be nice to her, okay?" He turned to Nathan, "You too."

"Hey, I'm nice!" Nathan said, offended by his brother's assumption.

Lucas stepped out of the driver's side and pointed at him, "You're _Nathan_."

Throwing his arms up in exasperation, he turned to Haley as she climbed out of the backseat.

"What's that suppose to mean?!"

Haley just shook her head as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

Peyton sat on the door step, waiting with Comet by her side. She wore a pair of faded ripped jeans, a band tee under a black leather jacket, and a dark pair of aviator sunglasses—even though the sun was beginning to set. Lucas approached her with his hands in the pocket of his jeans, a lopsided smile plastered on face, and his blue eyes drinking in the sight before him.

"Ready to go?" He asked.

She tightened her grip on Comet's leather leash and nodded as she stood. Even though Comet did a fine job of guiding her, Lucas placed a hand on the small of her back. He had never done that before, so these butterflies in Peyton's stomach were sort of new to her. When they reached the end of the walkway, Haley and Nathan turned to them.

"Peyton, this is my best friend Haley…" Lucas introduced them.

Haley looked toward Lucas awkwardly, then to Peyton with a smile, "Nice to meet you."

"Hi," Peyton responded softly, sounding a little more distant that she has been for the past few weeks.

"And this is her husband—my brother—Nathan."

Nathan stepped forward and startled her when he boldly grasped her hand for a handshake.

"Peyton Sawyer, Lucas told us a lot about you."

Lucas' eyes widened and Haley slapped her husband's arm. _That's_ what Lucas meant by 'he's Nathan'. But the way Peyton's pink lips screwed to the side, as if she were repressing a smile, warmed Lucas' heart.

"What Nathan means is…" Haley gave him a look, "we were looking forward to tonight. From what Lucas told us, you're going to _love_ this place."

"It all works out perfectly. I love coffee, you and Haley love music, and Lucas loves staring at—Ow!" Nathan stopped short when Haley's pointed elbow jabbed his ribcage. "Would you quit hitting me?!"

Glaring at his brother, Lucas placed his hand back onto the small of Peyton's back and quickly changed the subject.

"We should get going. Do you want to sit in the back with Haley and Comet or in the front?"

His brow furrowed in confusion when her body instantly tensed and Lucas felt her take a step back. On instinct, Peyton's free hand moved to her temple and nervously scratched at her hairline.

"I-I, um, I'm actually not feeling too hot. You guys go ahead. I'll…I'll just stay here."

She took another step back but Lucas' hand kept her in place. He turned to look back at Haley and Nathan, motioning to the car, letting them know they needed a minute alone. With his full attention to the nervous blonde in front of him, Lucas carefully placed his hands on her shoulders and tried to decipher the situation.

"Peyt, what's wrong?"

Her grip on Comet's leather leash wrapped around her left hand so tightly that Lucas was sure it would leave a mark. He searched her facial features, watching her curls bounce as she shook her head.

"I just, I just don't—"

"You…" Lucas' voice trailed off as realization set in, "You're not sick are you?" Her head shook again.

"Her…her birthday's tomorrow," She spoke softly, her voice cracking a bit.

It made sense now—Larry suggesting this outing and Peyton suddenly reverting to closing herself off. She was still grieving, and she was scared.

"You don't want to drive there." It was a statement, not a question. He didn't have to ask because he already knew the answer before she even nodded.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, Peyt. Wait right here, alright?"

She self-consciously wrapped an arm around her middle and nodded.

Lucas leaned against the car and spoke softly through the opened back window, "Peyton and I are going to walk there. You guys go ahead, we'll meet you there."

Haley moved forward, looking at Peyton through the window, "Everything okay?"

He could have told Haley about Peyton's situation. She's been his best friend for years and he knows he can trust her. But this is Peyton they're talking about. She trusted him enough to let him in and Lucas didn't want to lose that.

"It's a nice day out, Hales, and it's not that far."

The opposite door swung open.

"No problem, we'll join you guys," Nathan rounded the car and helped Haley out. Lucas smiled appreciatively before returning his gaze to Peyton.

He wanted take away her pain. He wasn't exactly sure how, but that was what he was determined to do tonight.

- - - -

The coffee shop had a homey feel. It was small and dimly light with only a few college students idly chatting. A while back, Haley told Lucas about this little café and its Saturday live acoustic performance night. The look on Peyton's face after the first artist's performance confirmed Lucas' previous assumptions—he knew she'd love it.

"I knew it," Nathan came up behind Lucas.

After thanking the barista, Lucas kinked an eyebrow in Nathan's direction, "Knew what?"

"I knew she was hot."

"Dude—"

"Tell me I'm lying and I'll shut up," as expected, Lucas remained silent and Nathan grinned. "But what I _didn't _know was that you _have_ the hots for her."

"Okay, _now_ you can shut up and help me take these to the girls."

"I'll take that as a confession," Nathan shrugged as he picked up two cups of coffee and Lucas did the same.

They approached the booth the girls occupied. Haley was laughing uncontrollably at Peyton's facial expression and Comet, after a brief argument with the manager, did as he was told and obediently surveyed the room from under the table. Nathan slid into the spot next to Haley, quickly pecking her lips, as Lucas sat next to Peyton. As soon as he set down their coffee the back of her hand swung out, smacking Lucas arm.

"Luke, why didn't you tell me Haley's a musician?!"

"_Was_." Haley corrected.

Lucas blinked a couple times, "I—"

"There's no 'was', Haley." Peyton cut him off, shaking her head for emphasis. "You might take a break from _doing _it, but music isn't something you just lose."

"It's always inside you," Haley added as smiled broadly at Peyton. Lucas and Nathan looked at each other with raised eyebrows. "But that dream has come and gone. School is my priority for now."

"Haley's going to be an awesome teacher," Nathan boasted, "She's already an awesome tutor, that's for sure."

Peyton furrowed her brow, "Have you thought about music education?"

"I…no, not really."

"Kids could really use an instructor like you, someone with a real passion for music," Peyton reached for her cup and brought it to her lips, "Schools are cutting music programs for lack of interest and funding…it's a shame really."

For an outspoken, headstrong female, Haley was stunned into silence. They silently watched Peyton sip her coffee in awe until an employee approached the microphone.

"Alright, our next artist is our very own local pride and joy. Let's give Mia a hand you guys."

A shy brunette, with an acoustic guitar perched on her lap, thanked the boy and turned to address the intimate crowd.

"Hey everybody, tonight I'm going to do a cover to one of my favorite songs. You may know it already, but I hope you enjoy."

_I'm on the corner waiting for a light to come on  
That's when I know that you're alone  
It's cold in the desert, water never sees the ground  
Special unspoken without sound_

_Told me you love me, that I'd never die alone  
Hand over your heart, let's go home  
Everyone noticed, everyone has seen the signs  
I've always been known to cross lines_

Lucas was listening to the young girls beautiful voice until another tore his attention away.

"Excuse me," Peyton whispered as she touched his arm. He could see the desperation in her features.

Despite his concern, Lucas slid out from the booth and Peyton quickly followed. She didn't wait to hear their concerned questions or for Comet, she just needed to get out of there.

She stumbled into a few empty tables and Comet sprang out from under the table. Feeling her companion brush against her leg, Peyton reached down for his leash and followed him to the exit.

Haley looked up at her best friend, "Lucas—"

"I've got her," he assured, stopping their movements to get up.

Outside, in the alleyway of the café, Peyton leaned against the brick wall and slid down to a seated position. She held her breath and squeezed her green eyes shut, just trying to fight back tears. She could still hear Mia's powerful voice coming through the thin windows.

_I never ever cried when I was feeling down  
I've always been scared of the sound  
Jesus don't love me, no one ever carried my load  
I'm too young to feel this old_

"Peyton?" Lucas called, searching the empty street. Comet's wagging tail stuck out from around the corner of the café, his golden hairs glowing is the moonlight. Careful not to frighten her, Lucas rounded the corner and spoke softly, "Peyt?"

"I can't go back in there. I'm sorry. I thought I was fine but I—"

"Hey," he cut her off as he slid down next to her, "You don't need to explain anything, alright?"

She was shaking and he knew it had nothing to do with the cool October breeze. Lucas wrapped an arm around her shoulder and Peyton met him halfway, curling into his side.

"Why am I still sad, Luke?" She mumbled into his grey hooded sweatshirt. "Why can't I move on?"

"There's nothing wrong with being sad," He tightened his grip around her shoulder and soothingly rubbed her knee with his free hand, "Because you love her."

She noticed that he didn't say '_loved_'. He didn't use the past tense.

A smile tugged at the corner of her lips as her hand slid over the back of his. Lucas watched her fingers wriggle their way between his, lacing them together, and his gaze quickly shifted to her face. Her smile, the first genuine smile he's had the pleasure of seeing, had an effect on him. Just as a smile spread across his lips her watch beeped.

"Happy birthday mom," Peyton whispered into the night air.

_Here's to you  
Here's to me  
On to us  
Nobody knows  
Nobody sees  
Nobody but me_

- - - -

"Take my car."

Nathan took Lucas' keys with a quizzical look.

"Where are you going?" Haley asked him but the blue-eyed blonde was distracted. He watched Peyton slowly walk up the pathway, Comet leading her to the front door. "Lucas."

"I'm going to stay. Her dad's not here and I don't want to leave her alone."

Nathan, too, watched as Peyton dug into the pockets of her jacket in search of her house keys. The younger Scott nodded as he placed a hand around Haley's waist, "I think that's a good idea."

"But—" Haley started to protest.

"They have a spare bedroom. I'll call you guys in the morning to pick me up."

Her brown eyes drifted in the same direction the two Scott boys were fixated. Peyton managed to unlock the door, Comet raced inside but she stood there, waiting to see if they were going to come in.

"Okay, you're right," Haley agreed, "call me if you need anything."

Lucas nodded as he waved goodbye and headed toward the house. Peyton disappeared from the doorway, leaving the porch light on and the door unlocked. As soon as he locked the door behind him, Lucas heard a noise coming from the study followed by a loud thud.

"Ah, fuck!"

He rushed into the study and found Peyton sitting on the floor, clutching her ankle in pain. Quickly kneeling beside her, Lucas touched her ankle and she hissed.

"What the hell happened?!"

"I was trying to get the book on that stupid shelf!" She pointed to the very same shelf he saw her reaching earlier.

"Yeah, well, instead of asking for help you went and got yourself hurt. Hang on."

Caught off guard, Peyton gasped and wrapped her arms around his neck as he effortlessly lifted her into his arms. He carried her to the couch, gently setting her down and propping her injured leg up on the coffee table with a decorative pillow. Pacing back to the bookshelf, Lucas scanned the numerous book spines and placed his hands on his hips.

"Which book?"

"The big black one, it's the only one with no lettering on the spine."

When he found the book she described, he handed it to her and kneeled beside her injured ankle. Lucas gently rolled her pant leg up to her calf and surveyed the damage.

"Looks like you just twisted it," His calloused finger tips brushed against her ankle. She clutched the book tightly and winced.

"It's my mom's."

His blue eyes looked up into her sad green ones, "What?"

Her hand trailed over the black hardcover, "These are my mom's sketches. I-I just…I wanted to put them up in my room."

"Oh." Lucas' gaze fell back down, focusing on her ankle. He must have shifted his weight wrong or unconsciously applied too much pressure. With a loud cry, Peyton's knee shot up and caught Lucas on the lip. "Ahhh!"

"Oh shit!" Setting her foot on the ground, Peyton leaned forward and reached out to Lucas. She grasped his face in her hands, not knowing exactly where she hit him but needing to know he was okay. "I'm so sorry."

"I didn't know you hated me _that _much," He joked, touching a finger where his lip was beginning to swell.

"I don't hate you."

Eyes flickering back to hers, his breath catches in his throat. She has his face cupped in her delicate, soft hands. Her curls are framing her perfect features and she smells amazing. And…she doesn't hate him.

He was so lost in her beauty that Lucas didn't even notice the pad of her thumb tracing the outline of his bottom lip. By the time her touch caught his full attention, her lips caught his in an innocent kiss. She surprised him. Of course she did. Never in his wildest dreams did he see this happening. Okay, that's a lie. But he never thought it would ever _really _happen. It took Lucas a minute to respond, but he would be crazy not to kiss her back. As soon as his lips began to move with hers, the innocent kiss became anything _but_ innocent.

Neither knew how they got there, but Peyton's injured ankle was forgotten and Lucas' busted lip suddenly lost its importance. She was lying with her back against the couch and Lucas holding his weight above her. They panted heavily between kissed. Their lips and tongues moved furiously in battle yet perfectly in sync. Her hand was planted firmly above his racing heart and the other cupped the back of his neck. Lucas' hand clutched her jean clad thigh, conveniently hooked over his right hip, and the other beside her head, bracing himself. His hand slowly trailed up toward the hem of her tee shirt, gently pushing the material up and allowing his fingertips to touch the soft skin of her stomach.

Outside, the sound of a car door slamming shut had Peyton pushing against Lucas' chest. They quickly sat up and listened.

Larry was home.

Peyton scrambled to her feet, the instant pain shooting through her ankle reminded her of the incident. Lucas didn't hesitate to stand up and help, but she brushed his hand away and quickly limped away.

"Peyton, wait!" he hissed, following her out into the hall and to the staircase.

"He can't. We—I—" She stuttered as she hopped up the stairs, then stopped and turned around with a look of desperation, "He'll kill you if he finds out."

"But—"

Lucas' eyes darted to the front door as he heard the sound of a key being inserted into the lock. He doesn't even know what made him do it, but he skipped those few steps up to meet Peyton's lips for a quick, but lingering, kiss. She pulled away, ignoring the pain in her ankle as she ran up the remaining steps and reached her bedroom just as the front door opened.

"Lucas?" Trying to hide his nerves, Lucas shoved his shaking hands into the pockets of his jeans and turned to face Larry. "What are you doing here?"

He swallowed thickly, "We all just got back from hanging out at a local café. I didn't want to leave Peyton alone tonight."

"Oh," Larry's brow furrowed as he nodded, "Did…how, how is she?"

"Honestly?" Lucas scoffed, "You probably should have told me what today was, _Sir_."

Where did that confidence come from? One minute Lucas was afraid this man would pulverize him and now he just wanted to slap some sense into him.

"What?" Larry crossed his arms over his chest, daring Lucas to repeat himself.

"You have an incredibly intelligent and amazing daughter, Mr. Sawyer. She doesn't need you to pay people just to hang out with her. What she _needs_ is her _father_," his accusing blue eyes narrowed, "You can keep that bonus for tonight. I don't want it."

Stunned, Larry watched Lucas ascend the stairs and disappear into the guest bedroom. He shook his head, letting out a quick breath.

"Well, I'll be damned…"

* * *

_**Song lyrics - "Cold Desert" by Kings of Leon.**_


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **_Another big thank you to Kate, my Beta, she's amazing._

_This story is seriously writing itself. Nothing is playing out the way I first envisioned it, even I don't even know how this is going to end--and I absolutely love it! I hope you guys are enjoying this story too._

_What I **am** about 99.999% sure is going to happen by next chapter is that I'm bumping up the rating to **M**. For the direction I'm going, I see no way around it. If anyone is uncomfortable with the change in rating and still wants to continue reading this, just let me know so I can put in a warning somewhere in the chapter. Or this can be your warning! (ha!)_

_Thank you for the amazing reviews and Enjoy!!_

_

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_**"See not with your eyes, but with your heart. The best things in life are unseen."**_

**Chapter 4**

Lightly touching a finger to her lips, a smile slowly formed. She's been laying in her bed for the past ten minutes, replaying the kiss she and Lucas shared last night over and over in her head.

Its not that she didn't think Lucas would be a good kisser (he was _definitely_ a good kisser) but she didn't expect his lips to be so full or soft. Or his graceful maneuver that guided her into lying position as their kiss deepened. Or the way his hand immediately grasped her thigh. Or the feeling of his large palm on her bare stomach.

Peyton felt the heat rush to her cheeks at that last thought, but the smile never left her lips.

"Good morning sleeping bitchy," A raspy sing-song voice filled Peyton's bedroom, "And no pretending to be asleep, I can see that goofy ass smile all the way from over here."

"It must be a cold day in hell for Brooke Davis to be up this early on a Sunday morning," Peyton grinned skyward.

Three years ago, Larry installed the high tech webcam (courtesy of Brooke Davis) onto his old desktop computer and moved it into Peyton's bedroom. Not only did it help bridge a connection between the two best friends, but the webcam also came in handy when he was on business trips and missing his 'Chicken'.

"_Ha_ _ha_." Brooke deadpanned, smirking at the camera. Her hazel-grey eyes narrowed as she leaned in closer, "Wait. What's with the goofy ass smile? What did you do?"

"Nothing!" Peyton cried laughingly as she sat up in bed. It was a definite lost cause, her smile wouldn't go away and it was _his_ fault.

Brooke only knew that Peyton had a new tutor; what her best friend didn't know was that it was a young male tutor. They always told each other everything—secrets, gossip (most from Brooke's end), and every little detail about their day—but this time around Peyton didn't think twice about keeping those little details to herself.

…especially last night's lip-lock with said tutor.

"Now, are you going to tell me why you're awake so early?" Peyton quickly changed the subject. "You're almost never on this thing anymore."

With a small, sad twitch of her lips, Brooke's expression softened, "You kidding me? You really think I'd forget about today?"

"No, not really," Peyton responded softly, "I just thought you'd have some kind of hangover this morning."

"Oh, I'm _definitely_ hung-over," Brooke chuckled lightly. During the silence that followed, she watched Peyton's solemn expression. "How are you holding up, P?"

Ah, the million dollar question. It resurfaced at least twice a year, without fail, and Peyton would usually respond with what she called her 'painted clown face'. Her lips would stretch into a painfully large grin, saying something about 'being so many years ago' and 'she's fine, really'. She was pretty sure that Brooke could see right through her fake smile. It's funny how Brooke could always read Peyton better than Larry ever did.

But this smile was no painted clown face smile. This smile was driven by his soft spoken words from last night.

_There's nothing wrong with being sad…you love her._

"I…" Peyton trailed off, her grin broadening, "I think I'm going to be okay."

Brooke's eyebrows shot up. That was the most sincere answer she's heard from her best friend in years. And that smile…_that smile_…

"You sure you're alright?" She eyed Peyton skeptically. The blonde ignored her as she sat up straight and listened to the movement in the hall. "Peyton?"

"Huh?"

"Are you even listening to me I—Hey! where are you going?!"

"I, I've got to brush my teeth," heading toward the door, Peyton smiled sheepishly, "Talk to you later?"

Peyton stepped out of the room before Brooke could even answer. Surveying the empty bedroom on her computer screen, Brooke crossed her arms over her chest and sat back with a disbelieving scoff.

"I think she just ditched me…"

- - - -

Bracing his hands against the tile wall, Lucas closed his eyes as he ducked his head under the spraying showerhead.

He couldn't help but feel like such an ass after last night.

Peyton may have kissed him first but she was vulnerable, confused, and…she's his _student_. He's almost three years older than her, he should have known better than to take advantage of the situation. No, scratch that—he _did_ know better.

But it was an amazing kiss.

With a deep sigh, Lucas reached for the first bottle of shampoo and flipped the cap open. Inhaling, his eyes fluttered shut as the lavender invaded his senses. It was Peyton's shampoo, he was sure of it. Just as a smile began to form, Lucas' eyes snapped open in horror when the bathroom door swung open.

"Uh…someone is showering in here," he stated the obvious. A figure emerged from the thick cloud of steam that filled the room and his mouth fell open.

Speak of the devil. But what a _hot _devil it was.

Her golden curls were pulled up high into a messy ponytail, a few loose strands hanging here and there. The size and fit of that white tank top on her torso should have been considered illegal. And those little shorts...really? Were they even shorts?! A mischievous grin pulled her whole morning look together as Peyton headed straight for the sink.

"That's alright," she shrugged as she turned on the sink and reached for her toothbrush, "I don't mind."

Those had to be the most amazing legs he had ever seen.

As Lucas watched her through the curtain he struggled to find his voice, "I, um, could you—can I have some privacy?"

His heart hammered furiously as Peyton turned and walked toward the shower stall. Only a transparent shower curtain separated them as she stood there with one sexy ass smirk on her smooth lips.

"Why?" Her sultry tone sent chills down his spine, "Are you afraid I'm going to look?"

She didn't wait for him to answer. Inserting the toothbrush into her mouth, Peyton turned her back to him and walked back to the sink. His blue eyes trailed down to watch her hips sway from side to side with each step. For the life of him, Lucas couldn't take his eyes off of her.

That's when Peyton bent over the sink and those little shorts rode up in the back.

"Oh dear god…" Lucas muttered under his breath as he blindly reached for the shower dial and turned down the heat.

Peyton, however, heard him loud and clear.

- - - -

The front door was in sight as he stepped off the last step. Just a few more steps and—

"Lucas." Larry's voice boomed from the dining room. "Can you come in here?"

Lucas groaned internally as he turned back around and entered the dining room. Larry sat at the head of the table, his brown eyes boring holes into the blue-eyed boy. Peyton, now dressed in a pair of flannel pants and a sweatshirt, sat to her father's right as she drank her orange juice.

"Sit down," Larry pointed with his fork to the spot across from Peyton, "have breakfast with us."

Shaking his head, Lucas smiled uneasily, "Thank you, sir, I'm not very hungry."

"Have a seat anyway. I'd like to thank you properly for introducing Peyton to your friend Haley."

"_Dad_," Peyton shifted uncomfortably.

"Don't be shy," Larry took her hand in his before he looked up at Lucas, "Peyton was just telling me how much she has in common with your friend. She really enjoyed herself last night Lucas, thank you."

"In that case, we should definitely do it again sometime," Lucas smiled at the blush coloring Peyton's cheeks as she, too, smiled. "My brother should be here soon, though, so I should get going."

"I'll see you out then," Larry said as he stood from his chair.

As he followed Larry, Lucas looked over his shoulder, "Bye, Peyt."

"Bye Luke," She responded, smiling against her glass of orange juice.

- - - -

"When?"

They stood out on the front porch, overlooking the empty street. Lucas side glanced in Larry's direction.

"About a few days ago."

Larry's head shook in awe, "I can't believe she told you."

"I didn't ask her, Sir, I promise."

"She must trust you," he looked at Lucas out of the corner of his eye, "I don't know _why_, but I guess that means I should trust you, too."

If only he knew…

"I hope so," Lucas looked away.

Larry slid his hands into the pockets of his slacks, "Listen," he kicked at the ground like a nervous child, "I've got this business conference in New York and," he sighed deeply, looking up at Lucas with a sincere look in his eye, "you're a good guy, so…can I trust you to look out for my little girl while I'm gone?"

"Hasn't she already done that for herself for years now?" Lucas said with a hollow laugh. He winced under Larry's intense glare, "Sorry."

"I know what you're thinking, Lucas. But I want you to understand something," Larry squared his shoulders as he faced Lucas, "its not easy being a single father. I _have_ to work. I'm doing this _for _Peyton."

"Need I remind you that I'm no stranger when it comes to single parents?" Lucas avoided looking at this man, he was starting to piss him off, "And from what I've seen, the difference between my situation and Peyton's is that I knew my mother cared about me. I could feel it even when she wasn't around."

Just as Nathan pulled up, their eyes finally met in the middle. For once Lucas had the upper hand, Larry no longer intimidated him.

"I suggest you fix that."

And those were his departing words.

- - - -

Peyton's hands were buried deep inside the pockets of her leather jacket. The fall breeze against her skin and the sound of crinkly leaves shifting in the wind soothed her.

After the long silence, Larry placed a hand on her shoulder and quietly asked, "You ready to go?"

"Uh, yeah," Peyton started, "Do you think you can give me a minute though?"

"Sure," He kissed her temple. Taking a deep breath, Larry set a bouquet of tulips against the headstone of his late wife. "Happy birthday, sweetheart. I love you." he whispered.

Straightening up, Larry turned and he kept his brown eyes fixated on his daughter. She was the splitting image of his late wife during her teenage years. The porcelain skin, thick golden hair, large green eyes, and her tall, slender build—she was Ana through and through. Her curls, however, were all Larry's.

He remembers Ana's green eyes, sparkling with laughter, when he groaned at the first sight of those golden curls on her little head. He was convinced that his little girl was doomed to relive his fate with the same thick, frizzy afro-like hair he was born with. As Peyton aged, her locks grew into long, perfect, silky spirals of gold that bounced at the slightest movement. She was the perfect mixture of her parents.

"Peyton, I…" she lifted her chin to show she was listening, "You know I love you, right?"

Her brow knitted together, "What?"

Larry closed the gap between them, pulling Peyton into his arms and pressed a kiss to her hair.

"You're my little girl, and that's never going to change. I love you with all my heart," Larry spoke firmly and Peyton blinked away her tears.

"I-I know that, Dad."

"Okay," he held her at arm's length, thankful that she couldn't see the tears clouding his own vision, "Don't ever doubt my love for you, Peyton. Just…please don't ever doubt that."

Peyton nodded, and then quickly shook her head, "I won't. I love you too, Dad."

Larry pulled her into his tight embrace once more, savoring the moment. He told her he'd wait at the gate whenever she was ready to go. Peyton listened to his footsteps fade and—when she was sure her father was a safe distance away—she sat down in the grass, facing her mother's grave.

"Hey mom," Peyton began, running her fingers over the cold blades of grass beneath her, "So, there's this boy…"

- - - -

"No! Lucas, come on! I—no—I, I just can't! I—"

"Peyton," he tried not to laugh as she tried to tug her hand out of his grasp, "You can and you will."

"Lucas!" She whined, still tugging back.

The kiss they shared seemed like a distant memory now. It was as if it never happened.

Well, not exactly.

There wasn't a second kiss or even a conversation about the kiss and what it meant. They still teased each other and fought over little things, but now there were flirtatious undertones. He'd become bolder, giving her hugs when she was angry with him and she, of course, couldn't stay mad after that. Sometimes she pretend to struggle with her typing, just so he would stand close and place his hand on hers. He noticed that she would smile and laugh a little more and even though both made his heart race, he had to remind himself to have self-control.

She wasn't making it any easier on him though.

"Fine. But you're going to be the one explaining it to Nathan on why you missed his game tonight."

Peyton immediately relaxed, her shoulders sagged as she sighed, "You're such a dick to guilt me into this."

"If you don't want to go, then don't go," He laughed.

They stood in the middle of the sidewalk, in silence, waiting for the other to cave. He had one of his hands pressing lightly against the small of her back while her fingertips dug anxiously into the material on his forearm. She groaned loudly as she held Comet's leash up and Lucas grinned wildly as he opened the door, taking the leash and leading Comet into the backseat. When he opened the passenger door, Peyton's hand gripped reached out and grabbed his forearm.

"Lucas…"

Smiling, he rubbed small circles on the back of her hand with his thumb, "Nothing's going to happen, Peyt. I promise."

Lucas watched her take a deep breath as he helped her into the car. He closed the door once she was inside and raced over to the driver's side. As soon as he settled behind the wheel, Peyton's left hand smacked his bicep.

She was holding her breath, with a shaky hand stretched out in his direction and her eyes squeezed shut, "Hold my hand."

He smiled, "Peyt."

"What?"

"You know you can't see, right?" He tried to suppress the smile stretching across his face, but she was just too cute.

She smacked his chest with the back of her hand, "You…just…shut up and drive!"

Watching her hand waving in the air for emphasis, Lucas caught it and laced their fingers together. Peyton didn't open her eyes but she immediately relaxed when she felt his rough thumb caressing the back of her hand. Being in a moving vehicle suddenly felt a little safer than it had ever been, at least for the past seven years.

- - - -

"Shh, Comet, be quiet!" Peyton hissed as she pulled at his leash. The golden retriever anxiously danced from paw to paw and his bark resounded in the packed gym despite Peyton's orders. Poor dog didn't know what to do with the celebrating college students all around him.

Lucas chuckled as he took the leash from Peyton and placed a hand on her lower back, "Its fine. He's cheering for the right team."

"This is all your fault!" She laughed. The butterflies in her stomach fluttered uncontrollably as he led her through the crowd. "With all your yelling and screaming, I thought you were going to ditch me and play the game."

"I wish," Lucas shook his head as he searched the crowd of faces, "but I can't."

"Why, do you suck?" She joked.

He looked at her through the corner of his eye, "No. I, uh, I—it's my heart."

"Your heart?" Peyton stopped and faced him as her brow furrowed, "What…what's wrong with your—"

A strong pair of arms interrupted their conversation as they engulfed her tiny frame, "You came!"

"Of course we did," Peyton laughed at Nathan's child-like behavior.

"Peyt, Luke! Hey!" Haley clung to the back of Nathan's jersey, a lame attempt to not get lost in the crowd. "It's crazy out here!"

"That's because I owned the court, babe." Nathan dipped down to give his wife a peck on the lips.

"Very modest of you," Lucas faked annoyance.

"I don't know, Luke, did you not see that badass dunk or one of the _many_ three-pointers and free throws Nathan made?" Peyton very seriously placed a hand on her hip, "I'd say he carried the whole team on his back tonight."

With a grin on his face, Nathan glared at the curly blonde just as he playfully hooked an arm around her shoulder and ruffled her hair, "You making fun of me Sawyer?"

Lucas and Haley both smiled at each other as they watched the two of them goof off. They've only hung out as a foursome a few times, but Nathan and Peyton became instant friends and partners in crime. He rarely, if not never, acknowledged her impairment and treated her like any big brother would treat his little sister.

"Alright you two," Lucas gently tugged Peyton back toward him.

He may have been a little jealous of Peyton's relationship with his brother, and that was ridiculous considering their own history…on a certain couch…in the Sawyer's residence, but he missed having her attention.

"Hey," Haley touched Lucas' arm, "Are you coming tonight?"

Lucas shook his head, "I'm just going to take Peyton home and call it a night?"

"Bring her with!" Nathan said excitedly as if it were that simple.

"Where are we going?" Peyton asked Lucas, placing a hand on his chest. He didn't know why she did it (and neither did she), but it was a gesture he felt like she should have been doing all along.

"We're having a party at our place to celebrate," Haley explained.

Tapping his chest, Peyton smiled, "Let's go!"

"I don't know, Peyt…"

"Come on, Luke. I want to go!"

"Yeah," Nathan mocked Peyton's pout, "Come on, Luke!"

Lucas rolled his eyes. He could easily say no to his brother, but one look at Peyton's pouty lips had him caving within seconds.

- - - -

"I think he likes you," Haley said as she brushed her fingers through Comet's fur. The dog idly sat beside Lucas who was leaning against the wall and nursing a bottle of water.

He smiled at his best friend and looked down at Comet, "Comet always liked me, isn't that right boy?"

The dog's honey colored eyes glanced up at Lucas, then back down to keep a vigilant eye on the crowd. Haley shook her head and laughed.

"I don't know, you both look kind of lost without your Goldilocks," She gave him a look that he knew meant business, "Where is she anyway?"

"You're husband dragged her off somewhere."

Haley raised an eyebrow, "You _do _realize he's a married man. One that is married to _me_, your best friend."

"I know that," Lucas laughed.

"Then why are you acting like someone just stole your girlfriend."

His blue eyes quickly found her accusatory brown ones.

"What?"

"Don't play dumb with me Lucas Eugene Scott," she middle named him, his mother used it as a warning when he was in trouble. Haley would definitely make her proud, "I see the way you look at her. And all those little touches? Yeah, I've seen those too."

"Hales…"

"Talk to me Lucas," She insisted.

She was going to find out sooner or later, he figured he might as well tell her.

"We…" Lucas trailed off. He avoided looking directly into Haley's eyes as he rushed through his next words, "We kissed."

"You _what_?!" Her eyes visibly widened, "Lucas! How—what—oh my god! Are you an idiot?! How could you do that?!"

"She kissed me, Hales," the look in her eye told him she didn't believe that was the whole story, "and…and then I kissed her back," he touched lips to the plastic rim and spoke into the bottle, "and then some."

"Please tell me you didn't—"

He nearly choked on his water, "No! I'm not an animal, Haley! We—I just—it got a little heated before we stopped. I wouldn't do that…it was our first kiss."

"_First_?"

"Only," he corrected, regretfully, "I'm an idiot, I know."

"You like her," she stated the obvious. The look he gave her confirmed her suspicions. "Luke…" she sighed, "You shouldn't be getting involved with a girl like her."

His blue eyes narrowed into a squint, "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying…you don't know how to handle someone like her."

"Because she's blind?!"

Haley shook her head, "Think about it. She's been deprived of being a normal teenager until you came around. For all you know you could have been her first kiss, the first _guy_ she's ever been around."

"Haley—"

"No, Lucas!" She raised her voice slightly, "You are already getting attached and you're going to get hurt!"

"I'm not going to get hurt!"

"You don't know that! She's still a kid with a lot to learn about life and love!"

"So do I!" his intense blue eyes made Haley take a step back, "I'm just as capable of hurting her as she is of hurting me. It was _just_ a kiss, Haley."

Her face softened and her shoulders fell. "It's never just a kiss when it comes to you, Luke," she said softly.

Before he could fire back, Lucas saw Nathan push through the crowd with Peyton stumbling next to him. They were laughing uncontrollably and he had her arm around his shoulder.

"Peyton?" Lucas reached out for her.

Turning her head in his direction, she threw her hands up, "Lucas!!"

"We've been looking all over for you guys," Nathan smiled at them despite his brother's icy glare.

"Nate, is she _drunk_?" Haley asked, brushing back the blonde curl falling into Peyton's eye.

"She's fine. We only had a couple beers."

"A couple? How many is a _couple_?!"

Lucas turned Peyton to face him and brushed her hair out of her face to get a good look at her. A large grin spread across her face as she leaned in, resting her head on his chest and snuggling her arms around him. He looked up to see Haley's patronizing glance.

"Oh god, just relax you guys," Nathan waved them off, "I gave her a beer or two. Let her have some fun."

Peyton shook her head against Lucas' chest, "Beer's not fun," she mumbled against the fabric of his shirt, "It's gross. I think I'm hung-over."

Lucas couldn't help but chuckle as he rubbed her back, "You're not hung-over. I'm pretty sure you're still in the drunken phase sweetheart."

Unlike Nathan, Haley didn't miss the affectionate term of endearment.

Peyton shrugged, "Still gross."

"Lucas…"

"You're lucky her dad's not home," Lucas shook his head at Nathan and ignored Haley as he reached for Comet's leash, "Let's get you home Boozy."

"Lucas." Haley called after him and he halfheartedly turned to her. "Don't—"

"I'm not _stupid_, Haley. I know how to take care of her."

Lucas shook his head as he guided Peyton and Comet toward the front door. Haley just hoped he would take what she said into consideration.

- - - -

"Lucas…" Peyton mumbled into his shirt collar.

"Shh, here we go. Let's get you in bed."

Lucas cradled her in his arms as he pulled back the covers and gently placed her on the bed. He tried to pull back but Peyton had a tight grip around his neck that held him in place. Her eyelids drooped over her green orbs, fighting imminent sleep. She tucked her fingers underneath the collar of his shirt and pulled him so close that he had to brace himself with a hand on either side of her.

"What color are your eyes?" She breathed softly.

His heart was racing as he spoke, "Blue."

Peyton giggled as she shook her head, her nose brushing against his each time, "No, _tell_ me what color they _are_."

"They're blue, Peyt," He chuckled softly, watching her shake her head with a 'nuh-uh'.

"That's what Nathan said when I asked him about your eyes, but he didn't get it either," she whispered against his lips, "They can't _just _be blue. I don't believe that."

"Then what color are they?" Lucas' eyes fluttered shut when her fingertips traced his jawline.

"Something amazing...like the deep blue of the ocean during the summer. Or like, you know, when a storm is about to hit and the gray clouds swirl against a brilliant blue sky…" the corners of her lips twitched upward, "something intense. Not _just_ blue."

He let out a quick breath and shook his head slightly, "Peyton…"

"Yeah?"

"I really want to kiss you right now."

"Why don't you?" She took her bottom lip between her pearly white teeth and Lucas had to suppress the urge to groan at the sight.

"I don't think we should be doing this," he pressed their foreheads together.

Her smile grew, "Since when do I care what you think?"

It was a throwback to her typing lesson. Lucas' deep laugh rumbled in his chest and had Peyton's grip on his collar tightening.

"Kiss me," she whispered against his lips.

He only hesitated for a moment. When their lips touched, he comfortably took her bottom lip between his and gently sucked on the plump flesh as she lightly nipped on his top lip before taking it between hers. Lucas was the first to pull apart and saw her finally surrender to sleep with the tiniest hint of a smile on her features. He brushed her hair out of her face and managed to move her under the warm covers.

As he backed away, Lucas heard her softly mumble the shortened version of his name and his heart swelled inside his chest.

He was falling for her.

Actually, he probably fell for her a long time ago and he was just now realizing it.

No matter which way he looked at it, he knew he was in trouble.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Blame the insanity called school. A million apologies for the delay.

This isn't the "M" rated chapter I had planned--thats next chapter. Turns out that some things had to happen before I got them to that point...like I said this story is writing itself.

Special thanks (in honor of Thanksgiving) goes out to:  
**Kate** (Peyt4Luke4Eva), my beta--in the form of a break from proof-reading a chapter of my story.  
**Myra** (Kathiria), for being a great friend and helping me sort my thoughts for this chapter and kicking my butt into writing it.  
At the risk of sounding like a total dork, I'd like to thank the musical talents of **Sigur Ros** and **Stars** which were stuck on replay as I was writing.  
Last, and definitely not least I'd like to thank **each and every reviewer/reader** for showing interest in my story and writing in general. You guys are amazing.

**Thank You.**

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**Chapter 5**

Fear.  
Panic.  
Confusion.  
Discomfort.  
Danger.

These all would have been normal reactions on a morning like this. Yet, it was the exact opposite. She felt _safe_.

Before being fully aware of her surroundings, before the twitch of an eyelid or moving a single muscle she knew _exactly_ whose warm, firm body hers curled into. The very moment she began to stir, with her nose lightly pressed against his neck, Peyton only needed to inhale once to confirm it was Lucas. Her hypersensitive sense of smell easily detected his cologne and the scent of his skin, a scent so uniquely _his_. But this time she noticed the faint trace of something else, he smelled a little like her too.

It was then that she registered where her right hand was placed, or more like _what _she was touching. It was safe to say that Lucas was still sleeping by the deep, steady rise and fall of his chest. Her cheeks flared up in embarrassment regardless of the fact. During their comfortable slumber, Peyton's hand must have found its way underneath the light fabric of his tee shirt. Her palm rested on the warm expanse of skin between his navel and the waist band of his jeans.

Feeling his taut skin against the hardened abdominal muscles of his stomach had Peyton questioning her father's sanity. Why, in his right state of mind, would he hire such a physically appealing tutor?

Oh, that's right. Why should Larry worry if she couldn't see?

In her own logical terms—she may not be able to _look_, but she can _definitely_ touch.

Eyes fluttering shut, Peyton cautiously lifted the heavy pressure of her palm so only the feather light touch of her finger tips remained. Slowly, and ever so gently, her fingertips dragged across his stomach, from right to left and back again. His skin was warm against her chilled fingertips. Every ridge, contour, and line that defined his sculpted abs—she felt it all. Her breath caught in her throat as her fingers moved closer to the waist band of his jeans.

When Lucas shifted in his sleep, his grip on her shoulder tightened and Peyton froze. After a few short seconds, he settled into a more comfortable position and a soft snore rumbled into her tangled curls. She hesitated for a moment or two. Then, using the tip of a single fingernail, Peyton lightly ran her index finger up toward his navel then back down where his skin disappeared beneath the front of his jeans. The soft touch of her finger pads ghosted over the same spot over and over, performing a light dance over the taut, smooth skin there. She finally rested her cool palm against the warmth his abdomen offered.

Peyton had always been a curious child. The accident, however, intensified that innocent curiosity. This was no different.

She swallowed thickly and her heart rate steadily increased as the tips of her fingers slowly tucked under the rough material of his jeans. She paused, listening for any change in his breathing pattern, any indicator that he was alert and aware. There was none. Her tongue darted out, wetting her dry lips, and she swallowed once more before letting her fingertips venture further.

As soon as the tip of her middle finger slipped under the waistband of his boxers, Lucas' body tensed and Peyton froze once more. With a sharp intake of air, he grasped the forearm of her wandering hand.

"Peyton?"

His was voice rough and full of sleep. Peyton winced, hoping to play it off as if she were asleep and unaware. Curse her curiosity and cold hands.

"Peyt?" He repeated as he shifted to look at her, "I know you're awake. What are you doing?"

She winced again as she moved to sit up, her fingers slipping out into the cold air.

"Peyton."

"Well, what are you doing in my bed?" Peyton countered. Lucas grasped Peyton's forearm to keep her from getting too far, essentially bringing her back down to sit next to him.

"You were _drunk_. I stayed to take _care_ of you," He, too, sat up, "Answer me, Peyton. What were you trying to do just now?"

"I…"

What _was_ she trying to do? She could feel her cheeks flare up in embarrasment.

"I, um, I've got to go let Comet out," she mumbled, pulling her arm from his grasp and shuffling in the direction of her bedroom door.

Lucas sighed, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. She was avoiding the question—avoiding the whole situation, actually. He needed to know, he needed answers and he needed her to stop pretending nothing has happened.

Pushing himself off the bed, Lucas followed her into the hall.

"Peyton, we've got to talk about this."

She didn't slow down as she held her hand out in search of the banister, "Talk about what?"

"Everything!" Lucas nearly shouted. He wanted nothing more than to assist her. To place his hand on that specific spot of her lower back, a spot that he'd like to think of as his, and guide her down that flight of stairs—but she was being stubborn and doing such a thing would defeat the purpose of this conversation. "The kiss a few weeks ago, _last night's_ kiss, you a-and whatever your hand was doing this morning…What is all of this?"

Peyton sighed as they reached the last step, "Lucas…"

"Don't…" he warned, "don't change the subject, Peyton. We need to talk about whatever this is between us."

He watched as she slipped her feet into a pair of house shoes at end of the stair case. She reached for Comet's leash but her hand was nowhere near grasping it. Lucas took the liberty of unhooking the leather leash and also handed her the wool sweater from the coat rack.

"Thank you," she whispered as she pulled the sweater on and zipped it.

"Peyton…"

"Look, Luke…" she shrugged, "I, I'm sorry about this morning, okay? And those kisses—they, I mean…" with a deep sigh, Peyton gave him a lopsided grin to make light of things, "does it really matter? A kiss is just a kiss, right?"

That shouldn't have hurt him. But it did. There was a quick, sharp pain in his chest as she said those words—words he had said to Haley less than twelve hours ago. Maybe he didn't want it to be _just_ a kiss after all.

"No," Lucas shook his head.

Her brow furrowed, "_No_?"

"No, it's not _just_ a kiss," He said firmly, "It's not _just_ a kiss when it happens, not once, but _twice_. It's not _just _a kiss when you kiss me the way that you have—no one kisses like that if it's _just _a kiss."

And that's when she walked away. He was trying to make sense of things and she wasn't having any of it. So Lucas continued, trailing close behind.

"If it's _nothing_ to you then why do you keep doing it?" His words stopped her. She felt him close the gap between them as he stood behind her, "Why do you need me to hold your hand in the car? Why do you care what color my eyes are? And...and why do you even _kiss_ me?"

Even the sound of Comet's nails approaching could't mask the pained desperation in Lucas' voice. His last question came as a soft whisper, one that chilled her to the bone. But she had walls, and she had those walls for a reason.

"Okay. First of all—that first kiss, it should have never happened," she might as well have ripped his heart out, "Second of all—I may have been drunk but _you_ kiss _me_ last night."

"I said I _wanted _to kiss you, you _told _me to kiss you!"

Why was he doing this? Why couldn't he just leave it alone?

Peyton bit the inside of her cheek, a gesture Lucas had become quite familiar with. When an argument would escalate during their tutor sessions, she would bite the inside of her cheek when she didn't want to admit he was right, or simply because she wanted to check out of the conversation. Lucas turned his back to her and growled in frustration.

"You know what? _Fine_," he laughed humorlessly, "You want to ignore this? Fine, have it your way. You're young…you're confused—"

"Excuse me?"

"You're just curious. I'm the only guy you've been around and—"

"Curious?" She scoffed, "I may not get out much but I've kissed other guys, Lucas. Don't flatter yourself_. Stop_ trying to figure me out. You don't know me and you never will."

Silence, a flash of pain across his features, regret in her choice of words, and an ocean of untold truths hung in the thick air between them.

They just stood there—his blue eyes holding the empty gaze of her green eyes as she nervously tugged at the sleeves of her sweater. He tore gaze away, his jaw hardening as he slipped his hands into the pocket of his jeans.

"Okay," He said softly as he pushed past her toward the door.

"Lucas…"

"No, you were right. It should have never happened," Lucas placed a hand on the doorknob and turned back to look at her, "I'm not…I'm not just some toy you can play with. I shouldn't have crossed that line with you, I'm sorry."

"Luke—"

Peyton was cut off as the front door opened. Lucas took a step back, allowing April to shuffle through the doorway. The elderly woman was startled by their presence; she looked between the two blondes and felt the tension in the room. A sweet smile spread across her wrinkled features, relieving some of the awkwardness.

"Morning Miss Peyton," the corner of Peyton's lip twitched into a weak grin, "Lucas," his grin mirrored Peyton's, "since you're both here, up and about, I'll fix whatever you'd like for breakfast this morning!"

Lucas shook his head, sneaking a glance in Peyton's direction, "I'm just going to go and get ready for class."

"Oh…" April used a plump finger to push her wire rimmed specs up the bridge of her nose, and then looked to Peyton, "Then I guess I'll have your breakfast ready by the time you get back from your walk."

Peyton nodded numbly as she reached down, searching for the ring on Comet's collar. Almost as if it were second nature to help her, Lucas took the leash from her and brushed her hand away. His heart skipped a beat when his fingertips brushed against her soft skin, but he ignored whatever he was feeling and continued to latch the leash to Comet's collar.

Peyton swallowed thickly, choking back the knot that formed in her throat. She wanted to tell him she didn't mean it—that it did matter, that it wasn't _just_ a kiss. She wanted to them him that she wanted to kiss him the first time and the second time, that she wanted a third and fourth kiss and to never stop kissing him. That even though he wasn't her first kiss, she really wanted him to be her one and only.

But she didn't say any of that. She didn't know how. She couldn't see the pained look on his face, but the silence between them spoke a thousand words.

Sometime between Lucas assisting her and Peyton's torturous thoughts, April had retreated into the kitchen, leaving the two alone.

"I, I guess I'll see you tomorrow morning," Lucas mumbled, pulling the front door open, "Bye, Peyt."

She didn't want to leave it like this, "Lucas, wait…"

"Don't, Peyt…just, don't," He pulled back slightly and looked at her. "I'm sorry."

And he left.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, Peyton let out a breath she had been holding since they left the bedroom.

Sometimes she wished she wasn't such a bitch.  
Then there were times, such as these, where she just wished people could look past the bitch and see her—_really _see _her_.

- - - -

He leaned forward, placing both hands on his knees while gasping for breath. Beads of sweat coated his brow and soaked his gray tee shirt.

"It hasn't even been seven minutes and you already suck."

Lucas lifted his head slightly, glaring at his brother. Nathan raised an eyebrow when Lucas angrily slapped the basketball from his grasp. Swiftly dodging Nathan's block, he ran the ball up the court and shocked his little brother with a very rare Lucas Scott dunk. Just as he landed on his feet, Lucas let himself fall back into a seated position underneath the net and hung his head low.

"Okay, woah! Take it easy man. You are pushing yourself _way_ too hard," Nathan slowly walked up to him, his blue eyes full of worry as he watched Lucas struggle to catch his breath, "Everything alright?"

Lucas' silence was an answer in itself.

"Does this have anything to do with whatever happened between you, Haley and Peyton at the party last night?" Nathan saw Lucas briefly glance at him. Guilty. "What's going on man? Haley seemed upset after you left with Peyton and now you're all…pissed about something."

Nathan could be a little thickheaded at times, but Lucas knew he wouldn't be quick to judge as Haley had been. Confiding in him had never been a problem.

"Last night I told Haley…" Lucas sighed heavily, "I told her that I—that Peyton and I…we kissed."

Nathan's jaw fell open, a look of awe on his features as he settled into a seated position next to his brother.

"Shit, man, took you guys long enough," a small grin formed, "So you and Peyton?"

Lucas shook his head, "It's nothing, Nate. There's nothing going on, it was just a kiss."

"A kiss?"

"Two, actually…"

Nathan's eyebrows shot up, "Dude, that's not _just _a kiss."

"No, it was. It—I…" Hanging his head, Lucas rubbed the back of his neck as he gathered his thoughts, "It doesn't even matter anymore. The kiss should have never happened."

"Why not?" Nathan's brow knitted together.

"Because!" Lucas cried as he stood up, "Because I'm the tutor and she's the student. Because she's only seventeen and confused and because she…she's…"

He trailed off. Nathan raised both eyebrows and leaned forward expectantly, almost anticipating Lucas' next words. When none came, he finished for him.

"Blind?" Nathan took a less than amused tone. "Is that it? Because she's _blind_?"

"Well…_yeah_, I mean, it's...it's just _wrong_!"

Nathan shook his head as he stood up, "You are such a dick, you know that?"

"What?!" Lucas' eyes widened, "How am I a dick?!"

Nathan spun around, "Because she's _blind_, Lucas?! So fucking what! That's the lamest excuse I've ever heard! And you say she's only seventeen? Well I fell in love and got married at sixteen, it's _not_ impossible," he looked away for a second, "And just because she's blind doesn't mean she's not allowed to have feelings."

"I never said that," Lucas' jaw clenched in frustration, "She's just…she's lonely and trying to fill some void or something. I'm not going to be a part of that. I'm not just some guy to feed her curiosity."

"_Everyone _is curious at seventeen, Luke. She's being a normal teenager; she's _just _like everyone else." Nathan stated firmly. Lucas' guilt ridden blue eyes met Nathan's, "Even I can see whatever you two have got going on. If you hold the fact that she's blind against her…you're even more of an ass than I thought."

- - - -

No more flirtatious banter and no more unnecessary touching. And kissing…kissing was _definitely_ out of the question. This was strictly business as it should have been from the start.

_Just business_.

Lucas had to repeat the mantra over and over in his head, almost as if he were trying to convince himself. Taking a deep breath, he finally knocked twice, as per usual. Upon entering the Sawyer household, he was greeted with Peyton's usual loud music blaring from her bedroom. He dropped his backpack on the floor as he passed by the study and took a moment to survey the empty foyer.

Something wasn't right.

"Hello?"

No one responded. April must have taken the day off or else her cheery expression would have already been there to greet him. And if neither Larry, April, or Lucas were there, Peyton was suppose to lock the front door when she was home alone. Lucas shook his head as he ascended the stairs toward Peyton's bedroom.

It was still business if he scolded her for not following her father's instructions, right?

Her bedroom door was left open, just enough where a sliver of light along with the sound of guitar riffs from some angry rock song came through the crack. His fingertips brushed the wooden surface, ready to push the door open, but there was a moment of hesitation.

A moment where his eyes fell shut and his mind transporting back to everything that had happened in that bedroom Thursday night and yesterday morning. The things she had said, and then hearing her say that those beautiful words meant nothing. The way her soft, smooth lips fitted perfectly with his, and the realization of never being able to feel that again. But most of all, he remembered how amazing it felt to wake up with Peyton beside him. That feeling of being stirred awake in the best possible way. He vaguely remembered Peyton's cool fingertips tracing lines against his stomach—all leading to the moment when those same delicate fingers dipped under the waistband of his jeans.

In that very moment something clicked. He wanted her. And not just in a physical way but in every way possible. But he wasn't allowed to want her, _any_ part of her. Her denial and regrets, the feelings he couldn't deny even if he tried, everything that had happened between them in the last 48 hours—it all weighed heavily on his heart and he couldn't do a damn thing about it.

His eyes snapped open and he stared at the door, his fingertips still rested against the door. Walking in while uninvited, like he would usually do, was out of the question--this was just business.

Lucas knocked, careful not to push the door open as he did so, "Peyton?"

Nothing.

"Peyt, you in there?" he asked through the door, raising his voice to be heard over the music. Still, there was no answer. He knocked once more, allowing more pressure to slowly push the door open. Taking a few steps forward, his blue eyes quickly scanned the empty room. The music faded, transitioning to the next song.

It was The Cure.

Lucas winced. Hereached over and pushed the stop button on the stereo.

"Horrible," he mumbled, shaking his head.

Taking a half step back toward the door, he fully intended to search for the missing curly-haired blonde. But something caught his eye, something that made him stop and approach her bed. Lucas lifted the black bound sketch book, his brow furrowing as his eyes scanned its pages.

- -

"You are so damn lucky Mr. Doyle found you," Peyton angrily tugged on Comet's leash, "As soon as Daddy gets back you are _sooo_ getting neutered!"

Comet whined as his tail tucked between his legs. Being the "good" dog that he is, he dutifully led Peyton through the front door of their home.

"No, don't give me any of that. I don't care if there are a hundred female dogs in the park, you know better than to take off and leave me stranded," her fingers searched for the metal latch connecting the collar and leash. She released the hook and listened as Comet slowly walked away, most likely moping after the ear full he received from the stunt he pulled.

Peyton's fingertips trailed against the wall, using it as her guide to lead her toward the study. Since her morning walk with Comet took longer than usual, she was afraid that they would be late for her tutor session with Lucas.

And being late was not an option.

She needed to be there, waiting for him. She needed to be calm and collected when she apologized to him for the horrible things she had said. She needed to tell him that she lied, that those kisses really meant everything and that thought alone scared the hell out of her. She needed to—

"Woah—" she reached out and grasped the door frame to regain her balance. Her foot got caught in something that wasn't supposed to be there, and once her hand found the offending object she knew Lucas was already there. That was his backpack.

"Luke?" She called into the study.

There was no answer.

What she did hear, however, was the music coming from her bedroom fade out. Just as the first notes of her favorite The Cure song began, the music stopped altogether and a deafening silence followed. Her brow furrowed as she felt her way toward the stairs, leading her to the second floor. She stood in the doorway of her bedroom, listening to what sounded like paper rustling.

"L-Lucas?"

He jumped and quickly snapped the sketchbook shut.

"Peyton," He tried hiding the surprise in his voice. He didn't even hear her come in and being caught in her room, looking at her mother's sketchbook, was not exactly starting off on the right foot.

She gave a sigh of relief, "Oh good, it's just you."

"Yeah, you're lucky—" he stopped himself and shook his head. Yelling at her wasn't going to solve anything, it'll just make things worse and that's not what they needed right now. "Nevermind."

They fell silent. She slowly inched her way into the bedroom and Lucas moved aside, simply watching her shuffle toward the bed.

"What are you doing in here?" Peyton smiled nervously.

As she sat down, her hand drifted over an empty space beside her. His grasp instantly tightened around the very object her hands were searching for.

"I, um, I was looking for you," He answered truthfully. Her upper body twisted as she moved her hand to feel the space behind her. "Peyton—"

"Have you seen my mom's sketch book?" She cut him off. Peyton stood up, her back to Lucas as her hands moved frantically over the empty bedspread.

Lucas didn't answer. He simply held the book out, afraid to speak and unleash Peyton's wrath.

"It was right here, I left it—"

"Peyton."

"What?!"

He placed a hand on her shoulder, "Here."

She turned, her hand coming in contact with the familiar leather binding and the worry lines immediately disappeared from her delicate features.

"Oh thank god. Where'd you find it?" She smiled gratefully, but he didn't answer. "Lucas?"

"I…um…"

"Lucas…" her smile faded, "Where…where did you—"

"I'm sorry," he blurted out. He needed to apologize before she could throw him out, before the shit hit the fan and he wouldn't be given the chance to get a single word in.

"You…" she hugged the book close to her chest. It was a defensive gesture, almost as if she were protecting her life and soul, "Y-you looked at it?"

"Peyt, I'm so sorry. It was just there—"

"So you went through my things?!" She raised her voice and her walls flew up in an instant. He watched her knuckles blanch as she held the sketchbook tighter. "You, you—how dare you?!"

There were tears forming in her eyes. Nothing hurt him more than to see her cry, and knowing he was the cause for her tears made things worse.

"I didn't mean to, I'm sorry!" He reached out and touched her arm but she shrugged him off.

"Don't!" He tried again. This time she shoved him back, placing a palm on his chest and using all the strength she could muster to put distance between them. "I said don't!"

"Would you just please—just listen to me!"

"What did you see?"

Silence.

He had hoped that she wouldn't ask that question. Because the truth was…he didn't even know.

"Lucas," her voice was low and full of venom. "_What_ did you see?"

"I…I don't know."

"Just say it."

"Peyton…"

The sketch book flew across the room, in the direction she thought he was standing, but it actually missed him by a mile. He stared at her, wide-eyed and shaking his head in disbelief.

"Say it!"

So he did. He said the first thing that came to his mind.

"Sketches, okay? Just sketches!"

She stayed silent for a moment, "Is, is that it?"

"Um, and…and some of sketches you did. They were dated before your accident…" He saw the vulnerability seeping through the walls she had put up. "Then there was some strange doodling and scribbling near the end."

Her bottom lip quivered with unshed tears. Lucas knew he head said the wrong things--the utter look of despair in her features and the way she shook her head.

"You shouldn't have done that," she whispered. She needed something, anything, between them. So she crossed her arms over her chest. "You…you had no right. Its—I—you, you…"

"Peyton, look I'm sorry," he took two steps toward her, "There's nothing to be ashamed of. Those sketches were so amazing for a kid that's only ten or eleven years old! They looked exactly like your mom's!"

A single tear trickled over her porcelain cheek and he instinctively brushed it away with the pad of his thumb. But as soon as she registered his touch, Peyton swiped his hand away and pushed him for the second time. Lucas, however, wasn't ready to give in so easily. He reached out and took a hold of her, trying to pull Peyton into a hug.

"Peyton, stop it!" He held on tight as she struggled against his grip. "What's wrong?!"

"Everything, you jackass!" She cried, pushing against him. "You just don't get it!"

Yes, he really, really didn't. Lucas was beyond confused by her sudden outburst.

"What the hell is the matter with you?!"

"Strange doodling?!" Peyton shouted. The heel of her palm drove straight into his chest and Lucas' grip loosened, "_Scribbling_?!" This time the palm of her hand came in close contact with his cheek, but Lucas caught her by the wrist and his blue eyes widened in shock. "Fuck you, Lucas!"

"What the hell did I do?!" He shouted back, still dodging her attack.

"The doodling, those _scribbles._ They're all that is left of _me_!" Her voice broke and Lucas fell silent, "I went from a child prodigy to a teenager reduced to some pathetic _scribbling_ and _doodling_!"

The color from Lucas' face drained. The wind was knocked straight out of him. All those nonsensical pages of shaky lines and strange shapes...she was trying to draw again.

And he had just insulted her to the very core.

"Peyton," He touched her elbow and she, as expected, pulled back, "I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. I-I know what it's like to have something you love taken from you. I'm so sorry."

"What the _hell _do you know?!" She gave a hollow laugh, "You have _no _idea, Lucas. Not a _damn _clue!"

His eyebrows shot up, his patience was running low, and he did not appreciate her quick assumptions and dismissive attitude.

"I know more than you could _ever_ imagine."

Peyton raised an eyebrow and cocked her head to a side, "Oh? Does this have to do with the daddy that didn't love you?"

His jaw clenched. Was she really going to use that against him? She once had asked him about his family and he told her everything, he trusted her with his painful past. Now it became her ammo just to hurt him.

"Peyton…" He warned.

"No, tell me," her tone was patronizing. He was fuming and his blood boiled beneath the surface. "Tell me about this _terrible_ loss."

He shook his head. She was really going to be a bitch about this.

"You want to know? Fine!" With two quick steps he was in front of her, grabbing her by the wrist and forcing her palm over the left side of his chest, "You feel that?!"

He was shouting and her tough act quickly dissipated.

"Well?! Do you?!" She flinched before nodding mutely, "Good. Because I have a condition called HCM. In high school I had to give up basketball, the one thing that meant _everything_ to me, because at any given moment my heart could stop beating and I could die."

His warm hand pressed over hers, holding her palm firmly against his racing heart. Peyton could feel every single beat and an overwhelming sense of fear enveloped her own heart. Her green eyes glazed over with fresh tears and it was getting harder to breathe.

"So, _yeah_. I think I know a thing or two about losing something you're great at. And quite frankly," he roughly pushed her hand away from his chest, "I think living in fear, knowing that my heart can give out in this very moment and I could die, is just a little more tragic than your inability to see."

Peyton didn't say a word. Her glassy eyes had yet to shed a tear over his confession. He knew his words hurt, but he was tired of letting her get away with things. He forced himself to look away, those green eyes and unshed tears tempted him to pull her to him and apologize. But he was hurt, battered, and bruised.

"I'll…I'll be downstairs," Lucas whispered as he backed away. On his way out, he scooped up her sketchbook and placed it on the desk.

Peyton stumbled back, her knees giving out when she met the edge of her bed. Dumbfounded and feeling like a complete bitch, she sunk into the mattress, wrapping her arms around her middle.

She was such a bitch.

- - -

Lucas stayed in the study all afternoon, but Peyton hadn't come down. It was nothing new. They've had arguments that ended up like this before.

Around three o'clock, while working on the first draft of his final paper, he heard her bedroom door creak open followed by the bathroom door shutting. That had been two hours ago. It was now nearing five o'clock and it was getting extremely dark outside. Lucas stood from the desk, stretching out his sore back and walked toward the window to see the ominous sky.

There must be a storm coming in, there was no way the sky would be this dark at this hour.

Lucas jumped when the sudden buzz of an incoming call vibrated against the mahogony desk. He picked up his cell phone and checked the caller id before answering.

"Hello?"

"Lucas, where are you?"

"Still at the house, Sir," he rolled his eyes at the formal use of a title.

Larry sighed on the other end, "Listen…I, I don't do this but April called this morning to take the day off and there's no one else—"

"What is it?" Lucas interjected.

"My flight for today has been cancelled three times already, and I just heard about the storm coming in back home."

"Everything is fine, Mr. Sawyer. The storm hasn't even started. I'm going to wrap things up here and head out before it hits."

"That's the thing," Larry paused, "I…I need you to do me a favor. Stay with Peyton."

Lucas' eyes squeezed shut, silently cursing Mother Nature and every other supernatural force that worked against him.

"Mr. Sawyer…" Lucas sighed into the mouthpiece.

"Please, Lucas, I—you know I wouldn't ask this of you but its important and—"

"There's no one else, I know, I know," Lucas finished the sentence with a nod.

There was a pause.

"My wife…that night…" Larry trailed off and Lucas needn't another word. With the few Larry had given, Lucas completely understood Larry's concern and his need for Peyton to have company on a night like this.

"I'll take care of her, Sir."

"Thank you, Lucas. I really owe you one. Thank you."

His lips formed a straight line as he flipped his phone shut.

What in the hell is he getting himself into?


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** _I guess it's safe to say that writing is a long process for me, especially during the school semester. I'm finally done, so no worries, updates should be coming more frequently now._

_Now, this chapter...I haven't changed the rating because, well, I don't feel like one chapter should change the whole story's rating. You guys be the judge and let me know, because I don't know (haha). I'm actually really nervous about this chapter, I've never written a full out chapter like this...so opinions and suggestions for improvement would be greatly appreciated._

_I hope this is worth the wait! Thanks for reading and all the reviews!!_

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Chapter 6

There was no light drizzle to serve as a warning, the storm just came and took its claim over the peaceful little town. Strong howling winds blew rain currents this way and that, obscuring all windows from the outside world. Twigs and tree branches littered the sidewalks, trees still standing held on for dear life as they creaked under the wind's pressure and threatened to crack.

Inside the Sawyer residence, there was a single dancing flame casting an angelic glow over the brooding golden retriever. With his muzzle tucked between his two front paws, and the occasional thump of his bushy tail against the hardwood floor, Comet's large honey colored eyes focused intently on the front door. A hooded figure, drenched from head to toe, burst through the door, disturbing the foyer's peaceful ambiance. Comet's head perked up and his tail thumped steadily to the beat of rain, he simply watched as the man pushed the door closed behind him and pulled the hood away from his blonde hair.

Lucas, oblivious to his four-legged audience, dropped the gym bag on his right hand; the flashlight in his left hand had his full attention. His thumb slid the switch up. Nothing happened. He quickly pushed down then back up.

Still, nothing.

"Come on," he muttered quietly to himself, slapping the flashlight against his palm, "Work, damn it."

Comet pushed himself up into a seated position and tilted his head, just watching him. Man was so strange.

"Fuck." Lucas cursed under his breath, finally giving up.

He had just hung up with Larry when the storm hit and knocked down the town's power lines. After rummaging through the messy drawers in Larry's study, Lucas only found a single tapered candle and an old pack of matches. No flashlights. His Uncle Keith, however, always told him to keep a flashlight in the car for emergencies; _Unfortunately_, Lucas didn't think about batteries.

Bending down, Lucas tucked the useless flashlight into the pocket of his gym bag and took its handles once more. As he reached for the candle on the foyer table, he caught Comet's silhouette out of the corner of his eye.

"Hey boy," Comet tilted his head to the right, "You wouldn't happen to know where there's a working flashlight, would you?" The inflection in Lucas' tone caused his golden ears to perk up and his head to tilt the other way. Lucas sighed heavily, "Didn't think so."

He followed Comet up the stairs and watched the golden retriever head straight for his master's closed bedroom door. Comet pawed at Peyton's door, his honey colored eyes looking up at Lucas expectantly. He set his gym bag down, looked at Peyton's door and then back down to meet Comet's gaze.

"She shut you out, too?" Comet broke eye contact and stared at the door. Lucas chuckled as he stepped closer to Peyton's bedroom door, pressing his ear against the surface, "Peyton? It's me, Lucas," there was no response, "Peyt, Comet's out here waiting for you. Just let him in, will ya?"

The door didn't open and she didn't respond. All Lucas could hear were her muffled footsteps followed by the familiar static of one of her vinyl records.

"Peyton, he's going to sit out here until you open the door," The music started to play quietly, not painstakingly loud as usual, so he spoke softly through the door, "And I'll be in the guestroom if you need me. Okay?"

_If you need me_.

Sitting in the moon chair beside the record player, Peyton was buried beneath a soft red blanket and a large black sweater. She heard him loud and clear. Only the music and the raging storm outside filled the silence between them; that is, until his retreating footsteps caught her attention. She pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders and let out a shaky breath.

She didn't answer, but as far as he knew, she was okay and that's all that mattered. At least, that's what he told himself.

Lucas backed away from her bedroom door and met Comet's saddened eyes, "She'll let you in, buddy, don't worry."

He lifted his gym bag and carried it into the bedroom across from Peyton's. Carefully placing the candle on the dresser, Lucas dropped his gym bag next to the bed and started to peel off his soaked hoody and tee shirt. He tossed them to a side, creating a heap of damp clothing, and unzipped his gym bag. His basketball shorts from this morning's work out would have to do for the time being.

Just as Lucas straightened up, with his belt already unbuckled and zipper unzipped, the click of Peyton's bedroom door distracted him. He could barely make out her silhouette as she leaned back against her closed bedroom door. Her green eyes and expression were hidden in the shadow of her curls. Her slender figure drowned in that large sweater, but it emphasized those gorgeous long legs stemming out from underneath. Slick, bare, and glowing in the dancing candlelight—Lucas could feel his heart race a little at the sight. She pushed herself away from the door and took few steps forward until her hand grazed the doorframe to the guest bedroom.

"Peyt?" Lucas took a step toward her. The candlelight illuminated her face and he caught sight of the tear tracks lining her cheeks. His face fell and he closed the distance between them, holding his arms open, "Peyt, come here."

"I-I'm s-s-sorry," she whispered, placing a hand over her mouth to stifle her sobs. Lucas shook his head as he caught her wrist and pull her to him, he wrapped his arms securely around her shoulders and she buried her face in his strong chest; both forgetting that he was shirtless and that her attire wasn't exactly appropriate either.

"No, It's alright," he soothed while his fingers rubbed circles in between her shoulder blades. "I'm right here, you're okay, I promise."

Those soft curls bounced as she shook her head against his skin. Peyton placed her right palm over his chest, never once pulling away from the sanctuary he had created for her within his embrace. Lucas dropped his gaze, brushing the curls away from her face as she shook her head.

But that sweater, _that _specificsweater, caught his eye. That was _his _sweater. The same sweater he wore the night he spent taking care of her. This was the same sweater that went missing after that night; he must have left it in his haste to leave the morning after. And now she was wearing it. She was wearing _his_ sweater.

With her palm resting over his heart and her forehead still resting against his sternum, Lucas was absolutely sure she could feel the instant his heart began to race. A harsh sob passed her lips and she pulled back slightly, leaving her palm over his bare chest, and she shook her head again.

"No, Luke, I'm sorry! I didn't—I'm—you're…you're…" She stuttered, her bottom lip quivering uncontrollably as she lightly tapped her fingertips above his heart, "Y-You're going to be o-okay, r-right?"

His breathing hitched as realization hit—she wasn't afraid of the storm or haunted by her past, she wasn't having an anxiety attack or seeking comfort for herself. She was afraid for _him_. Peyton was genuinely concerned and affected by his heart condition. She _really_ and _truly_ cared about him.

"Luke?" Her trembling voice shook him from his daze.

"Yeah, yeah I'm alright," he responded quietly. Peyton nodded her head, but then shook it once more.

"I didn't mean it, Luke. I'm sorry."

"No, hey," he took her face in his hands to keep her from shaking her head, "It's alright, we both said stupid things we didn't mean."

"No, it's not, Luke," she let out a frustrated breath, "You don't understand, I didn't mean _any_ of it!"

"Peyton…" he paused for a second as she rested her forehead against his chest, "Peyton, its _okay_!" he chuckled softly.

Lucas smiled at her incoherent rambling and how she occasionally brushed her lips against his skin as she mumbled. He wrapped his arms tightly around her shoulders, essentially pulling her body closer to him—and, without much thought, he pressed a comforting kiss to her soft curls. Peyton, in turn, placed both palms on his firm chest, sighing at the contrasting warmth of his skin against her cold hands. He didn't even complain. Lucas just held her close, warming her chilled body and chasing away her worries…because he was _that guy_ for her.

Peyton tilted her chin up, touching her lips to his taut skin, just a light touch that felt more like a whisper. Lucas' eyes drooped closed, taking pleasure in feeling her smooth lips on his bare skin and forgetting that he couldn't have this—or at least he told himself that he couldn't. Her weight shifted, and her lips moved smoothly to the right, across his chest until she felt the steady beat of his heart.

Lucas held a bated breath and kept his blue eyes hidden underneath his eyelids, not knowing what to expect. Just when he thought he knew her every move, she would do the most unpredictable things. One minute she could be shy and withdrawn, and then the next she would be bold and outspoken—he found _both_ to be incredibly sexy. She always kept him guessing.

She pressed a kiss to his skin, just above his heart, causing Lucas to swallow thickly. His fingers gripped her shoulders tightly, refusing to open his eyes in an attempt to stop the blood from rushing to places it shouldn't be.

"I lied."

All hope to keep control was lost when he heard her hoarse whisper, her breath against him, and the way she was touching him—it was driving him insane. And she was wearing his _sweater_ for god's sake! Lucas slowly opened his eyes, he looked down at the glowing pile of golden curls resting against him and the soft silhouette of her delicate profile outlined by limited candlelight. Damn, she was so far beyond beautiful…he couldn't find the words to describe the woman he held in his arms right now.

He took a deep breath and cleared his throat before speaking, "L-Lied? What…what did you lie about?"

Instead of answering him, Peyton's lips shifted and Lucas' hands involuntarily moved to rest on her hips. She pressed another kiss to the base of his neck and created a trail of kisses up toward his pulse point. Halfway up, she couldn't help smiling against his skin when she felt the movement of his Adam's apple working. Lucas' gripped her hips tightly as her tongue swiped across his pulse point. He nearly groaned when she pulled away; instead, he compensated by pulling her in by the hips as his hooded blue eyes watched her green ones blink repeatedly.

"I lied to you, when I said this didn't mean anything," with Lucas' eyes following her every move, Peyton grasped the sweater's zipper and began to slowly tug it down, "I lied. I lied to you because those kisses do mean something…_a lot _actually," she laughed nervously.

"Peyton," he placed a hand on hers, stopping her from fully unzipping the sweater. His action caught her by surprise—he was surprised his voice actually worked, to be completely honest. Caressing her cheek with his free hand, Lucas shook his head, "What are you doing?"

"Will you stop asking me that?" She chuckled softly, causing him to grin. She took a step closer until their hips met in the middle, "I think you know what I'm doing."

"Why?" The question came as a breathy whisper as his eyes became fixated with the slight curve of her lips, "I mean, you—_we _shouldn't…I…"

Lucas trailed off when one of her hands rested at the back of his neck and played with the little hairs there. He was a goner, definitely a goner.

"I want this."

"You need to slow down, Peyt," Lucas shook his head, trying to get back whatever self-control he had left, "We, we don't have to do this. Let's just take it slow and figure out what…what this all means."

"Nuh-uh," Peyton mumbled, as she leaned up and kissed the hinge of his jaw.

"Peyton…"

She pulled back slightly, "No. I'm tired of slow, Lucas! I'm tired of not feeling anything, and now that I actually _feel_ something I'm tired of hiding it!"

He looked into her green eyes, and even though she couldn't look into his, he could see everything—her fears, her hopes, and into the very depths of her soul. It was all there in that see of green and it literally took his breath away. Lucas was so lost in her eyes he almost missed what she said next.

"And here's the thing," she gently removed his hand, freeing hers so she could continue lowering the zipper, "I've never been good with words, Lucas. I'm more of a 'show' rather than 'tell' kind of girl."

"S-show?"

Peyton stood on the tips of her toes and pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth. When she pulled back, Lucas' hooded blue eyes flickered from her eyes to her lips, and then back again.

"Mhm," she pressed a kiss to the opposite side, "I'm ready for this," she whispered, letting her lips hover inches away from his, "I want to show you how I feel about you, Lucas," her voice lowered, barely audible, but he heard every word, "I want _you_ to show _me_ how to show you how I feel."

His eyes snapped up to hers, "Wait, you want me to…what do you mean show you—"

"I-I want you…I want you to be my first."

Neither of them said another word. They stood there, waiting for something to happen—a protest, a declaration, some kind of first move…_anything_. Peyton took the initiative and, again, began to tug the front zipper down but Lucas' hand stopped her before she got too far. She opened her mouth; ready to argue—because that's what they do, apparently—instead, Lucas caught her lips in a kiss and muffled her surprised gasp. Lucas rested his forehead against hers, licking his lips as she bit her bottom lip.

"We don't have to do this," he whispered.

"I know we don't, but I want to Luke. I'm ready."

Lucas pressed his lips to hers once more. This time, when he pulled away, his eyes focused on hers as their foreheads touched and he brushed her hand away from the zipper. He pulled the zipper down the rest of the way and pushed the sweater—_his_ sweater—until it slid off her shoulders. When he finally looked down, Lucas nearly had a heart attack—she only wore a white silk camisole and the tiniest pair of shorts he'd ever seen.

"A-Are you sure about this?"

Peyton smiled. She could hear the nerves in his voice, it was adorable. Wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders as he placed his hands back on her hips, Peyton leaned into him until their bodies were pressed flush against each other.

"I've never been more sure about anything in my life," she breathed against his lips.

The first kiss was sweet and languorous, almost hesitant. It felt as though they have been—or _should_ _have_ been—doing this all along. Lucas cupped the back of her neck, burying his hand wrist deep in her curls as their kiss deepened and their tongues met somewhere in the middle. Peyton moaned at the contact and arched her back a little more toward him. She tugged at his waist, craving the warmth of his skin. The kiss broke and a low humming sound, something between a growl and a moan, came from low in his throat and their hands switched places—Peyton stood on the tips of her toes as she hooked both arms around his neck and Lucas wrapped his around her middle. He lifted her until her toes left the ground, their foreheads touched together and their noses brushed in a sweet Eskimo kiss as Lucas carried her toward the bed.

"I'm sorry I lied to you," she said quietly.

Lucas rubbed his nose against hers for reassurance, "I'm sorry I scared you."

"I'm sorry I threw things at you."

He had to smile at that one, but it quickly faded as he gently lowered Peyton onto the edge of the bed.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you and made you cry," his thumb traced the dried tear tracks on her left cheek.

Her hand reached up and rubbed the light stubble on his jaw, "I'm sorry for what I said about your dad."

"I'm sorry—"

"I'm sorry about the whole basketball thing, and for being such a bitch to you," she cut him off in a nervous ramble, "And I'm sorry that I've been acting like such a tease lately but Brooke always said that guys _like_ _it_ when girls play 'hard to get' but that's not _me_ so—"

Lucas tilted her chin up and cut her off with a quick kiss. When he pulled back, the dazed look on her face made him chuckle.

"And I'm sorry you ramble when you're nervous," he stated with finality.

Feeling the shift in his facial features and hearing the tone in his voice, Peyton knew he was grinning down at her. Somehow, she knew it had to be a sexy grin and she would have given anything to see it. The unspoken apologies were forgiven during that short period of shared silence. Lucas studied her face, watching how the light of a single candle flame danced across her features, highlighting her cheekbones and the soft curve of her profile in a warm, gentle glow. He couldn't resist moving forward, while cradling the back of her head, and bringing their lips together—her kisses were intoxicating. His weight shifted, slowly guiding her back onto the mattress until he felt Peyton's gentle push against his chest.

"Wait," she mumbled into his mouth. Lucas broke the kiss and reared back.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he said quickly, still backing away. Peyton grasped for anything she could reach, anything to keep him from pulling away entirely. Her hand landed on his bicep—its firmness almost made her blush—and the other wrapped around his wrist.

"No, no…it's just that—"

"We _don't _have to do this, Peyton," He insisted, "I can't wait. I'll wait for you!"

"Will you stop that?!" She giggled, pulling him to sit next to her, "That's really sweet of you, but I just…I…"

"Hey," he touched her hands to stop them from fidgeting, "What is it? You can tell me."

"It's just that…I've never done this before so I, um, I…" Peyton lifted her hands and smiled nervously. "I just…I need to feel you," she finished softly.

Lucas took a deep breath, reminding himself to keep breathing. He knew exactly what she meant but where their actions were heading, it was safe to say his mind went to the gutter. Quickly shaking those thoughts, Lucas took one of her hands and kissed her palm before placing it on his cheek. A broad smile filled her features and it warmed his heart to see her smile like that.

"Whatever you need," he spoke softly as he reached for her other hand and tugged. He created a space between his legs and pulled her to stand directly in front of him, "This is all about you tonight. Go ahead."

His hands dropped to her hips as he looked up at her. Those beautiful curls falling in her face, that soft smile pulling at the corners of her smooth lips, her green eyes glittering in the limited candle light, the most gorgeous girl standing before him—Lucas knew nothing could get any better than this. That is, until her other hand palmed his other cheek, cupping his face as she bowed down and gave him the most heartfelt kiss he'd ever experienced. That one kiss told Lucas that the best was yet to come and his heart fluttered at the thought.

Peyton broke away as her thumbs traced over his cheek bones, reveling in the contrasting rough texture in the hairs lining his jaw and the smoothness of his skin. Lucas' eyes fluttered shut as she pressed a kiss to each of his eyelids and then one to the tip of his upturned nose. His fingers were itching to touch her as they tucked under the silky material of her camisole. His thumbs began to rub circles on her lower abdomen, right next to her hip bones and she let out a puff of air at the sensation, breathing out his name.

"Hm?" He hummed, distractedly.

"I, um…" she swallowed hard, his fingers were really distracting. "I-I can't concentrate with you doing that."

"Okay, I'm sorry," he laughed quietly, "Maybe you should have kept _my _sweater _on_."

Peyton blushed as she suppressed a smile, "Shut up."

She playfully brushed a hand over his face, but before she could pull it away Lucas' fingers wrapped around her wrist. She took her bottom lip between her teeth when his full lips began kissing each of her fingertips. He could smell a hint of lavender on her hands, either from her body wash or lotion—he could never forget her scent.

"Luke," she whispered.

He pressed one last kiss to her knuckles and nodded, "Right, sorry. You're a little distracting too."

Peyton placed both hands on his shoulders for balance as she placed a knee on either side of him, straddling his lap. Lucas placed his large hands on her hips to help steady her. Blue eyes looked up at her in awe, "That's _not_ helping."

She smiled against his lips as she kissed him, "I just wanted to be close to you."

Once she was settled and comfortable, Peyton sat back on his thighs. Lucas' blues drifted down to the creamy set of legs, seeing each knee pressing firmly on either side of his hips, and his mouth instantly went dry.

"Can I at least touch you, _please_?" He pleaded as he looked back up into her eyes.

"Not yet." There was a devilish smirk as she scooted closer and her hands moved down to his chest. "Keep your hands right where they are and close your eyes."

Lucas raised an eyebrow and that boyish grin of his emerged. She rested her forehead against his and felt the crease in his brow against her skin.

"Don't look at me like that," they both laughed, "I said," she playfully shoved his shoulder, "Close. Your. Eyes."

With one last quick scan of her face, Lucas kissed her lips and obliged. The wrinkles in his brow smoothed out into a relaxed position. Nothing happened. All he could hear was their quiet breathing and the sound of rain hitting the window, the storm was still going strong. But that didn't matter. All that mattered was the person sitting on his lap and each moment they shared together from here on out.

Peyton's lips slowly dragged across his jaw and neck as her fingertips explored every inch of his chest. Her hands lowered to settle on his abs and her heart began to race. Sure, she was somewhat familiar with this area, but this was entirely different—she knew exactly where this night was leading and she's never wanted anything more than to have this, and to have it with _him_. Peyton shifted back, meeting some resistance when Lucas tightened his grip when her lips found his collarbone. Her tongue swiped across his skin to soothe the bite mark and a low moan caused a vibrating sensation upon her lips.

"Peyton…" he half sighed, half whispered.

Her forehead rested against his collar bone as her fingers traced the definition of his abdominals, "Shhh."

"I can't…shit…" he swallowed hard when her elbow unintentionally brushed against the front of his pants, "I don't know how much I can…h-how much I can take."

"This is about me, remember?" She teased and he could feel her lips form a smile against his chest.

"'Course it is," he mumbled, it was getting harder and harder to keep control, "but you're driving me insane here."

Peyton ran her palms up his stomach and chest, across his shoulders, and then slowly down his arms, paying extra attention to the feel of his strong muscles along the away. Taking his hands in hers, Peyton moved them to her lower back as she scooted further up his lap until they were hip to hip. She felt his obvious arousal underneath her and a deep, crimson blush filled their cheeks.

"If you don't want to do this…" he started.

"You don't have to tell me, Lucas."

"Yes I do," he brought her closer, forcing himself to bite back a moan at the friction it caused, "I want you to know that as much as I want to be with you, I _can_ wait for you."

She shook her head while one of her hands lightly trailed down his back, "I don't want to wait anymore."

"Promise me," he kissed her, "Promise me that you'll tell me if you want to stop, because I'll stop."

"Lucas—"

"_Promise me_," his voice was firm with a slight growl and Peyton sighed.

"I promise."

Lucas nodded his head, satisfied with her answer.

"Can I please touch you now?" he all but whined.

Peyton bit her lip and Lucas felt himself harden even more—she looked so incredibly sexy. She leaned forward and kissed him by the ear with their cheeks resting against each other.

"Be gentle with me," she whispered.

Hearing those four words stirred something within him—want, need, lust, love…_**love**_?

Lucas didn't have enough time to evaluate what this all meant; his lips crashed onto hers in a passionate kiss as his arm hooked around her waist. Their bodies moved in a twisting motion, putting her back to the mattress and his weight hovering above her, Lucas made sure to cradle the back of her head as he guided Peyton back. She spread her legs, making space for him to settle his weight between them.

When his fingers slipped under the hem of her camisole, his hands traveled up her sides and a breathy sigh escaped her swollen lips. Lucas latched onto the pulse point just below the hinge of her jaw. Her hands rested on his back, feeling how his muscles worked as he held his own weight above her. The room temperature spiked about ten degrees. His lips trailed down to her collarbone, but he couldn't bring himself to mark her flawless skin—he fully intended on taking care of his girl, and that included taking care of her physically.

Lucas pulled back, lightly pushing her upper back as a silent request for her to sit up. She didn't get too far. As soon as her back left the mattress, Lucas yanked the camisole up and over her head and her lips were pressed to his before he even had a chance to look. When they broke apart, Peyton settled back down on the mattress and Lucas' eyes slowly left her face as they traveled downward. There she was, Peyton Elizabeth Sawyer, everything above the waist was fully exposed to him for the first time. And Lucas suddenly didn't know what to do with himself—he just stared at her like a teenage boy, like he'd never seen a woman naked before.

"Lucas?" Peyton was suddenly self-conscious and he could hear it in her voice. The confidence she once possessed, all of it, quickly faded with Lucas' momentary lack of action. Embarrassment and fear took over as her arms started to hide her exposed breasts.

"No, no, no," he shook his head violently and reached for forearms before she completely covered herself, "Don't do that."

He leaned down, hovering until his forearms supported his weight on either side of her and they were face to face. With her forearms still in his grasp, Lucas' thumbs slowly caressed her inner wrists in an attempt to soothe her worries as his eyes travelled down her body. She bit her lip and the space between her eyebrows still creased in worry.

"I already knew you were beautiful, but…" he shook his head in awe, "you're perfect, Peyton."

"You're just saying that."

She wasn't one to take compliments, he knew that. He was going to have to make her believe it.

Lowering his hips to hers, they were now pelvis to pelvis and Peyton's sharp intake of breath told him she could feel the evidence of his arousal. Her once idle legs instantly responded as her thighs clamped tightly on either side of his hips, holding him between her legs in that position. A small lopsided grin formed on his lips as he leaned in close to her ear.

"Baby, if you're not going to believe me," he husked as he slowly grinded into her, "I guess I'm going to have to show you, then."

A gasp escaped her parted lips and her head tilted back at his actions. Lucas still held her wrists on either side of her head as his lips returned to her collarbone, he placed kisses down her chest leading to the valley of her breasts. Peyton brought her feet up to his hips, trying to push his already unbuttoned and unzipped jeans down. Her movements, however, lifted her hips until she pressed into Lucas' straining erection. His forehead dropped against her chest with a loud groan.

"Pants," she whispered breathlessly, "Take off your pants."

Pushing himself up, Lucas reached into the back pocket of his jeans and took out his leather wallet as his feet touched the floor behind him. While he pulled down his jeans, his blue eyes continued to watch the curly blonde—lying on her back with her hair splayed out like a halo, her bare chest heaving with each breath she took, and those long legs extending out toward him…he needed to make her _feel_ as beautiful and sexy as she looked.

His jeans were finally off, pooling around his ankles. Lucas kicked them away as he crawled back into the space between her legs and the first thing he did was kiss her. And when he kissed her, he didn't _just _kiss her. He made sure to _cherished_ her, everything about her—every sigh, every shiver, the feel of her lips moving against his, and the way she touched him. Because she didn't _just _touch him, she felt him—saw him—with every slow, sensual path those slender fingers created on his skin.

Those very same fingers threaded through his soft blonde hair as their lips separated. Lucas shifted his weight back until he was level with her chest and his mouth latched onto her nipple. Her back arched, mouth fell agape, and the sexist moan Lucas ever had the pleasure of hearing, spilled from her lips. His mouth relocated to her left breast as his thumb massaged her now moistened, fully erect nipple. She writhed and moaned in pleasure under his touch; her already hyperaware senses were put into overdrive. Keeping all of his weight on his knees, Lucas' hands travelled down her sides in a torturously slow pace until he reached the waistband of her shorts.

He looked up at her, "Peyton?"

"Huh?" She was in a whole different world.

"You sure about this?" It sounded more like a statement rather than a question, but he needed to be certain that this was what she wanted.

"I made you a promise, didn't I?"

"Yeah," He said softly, looking down at her stomach and moving his hands back up to her waist.

Peyton sat up, forcing him to lean back against his legs, "What is it?"

"I…" Lucas chuckled softly as he shook his head, "I think I'm a little nervous."

"Yeah?" An uncertain smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

He kissed her gently and whispered, "Yeah."

"Well, I'm _a lot_ nervous," she said softly.

Their foreheads met somewhere in the middle as they let everything sink in. They sat there, listening to rain and thunder outside while relishing in the peaceful anxiety within the room.

"I'm going to take care of you," he promised.

She smiled, touching his jaw with the tips of her fingers, "I know. You always do."

Her hands took his and placed them back on her hips as she kneeled upright in front of him. It was her silent way of granting him permission and the gesture alone made his heart rate pick up once again. Just before his thumbs hooked beneath the waistband, Lucas placed a kiss to her stomach and he felt her fingers combing through his hair—even that had his mind running a mile a minute. He finally started pulling the material in a downward motion; halfway down, his knuckle only skimmed bare skin and his breaths grew shallow at the realization that these were not just shorts—it was a tiny pair of boyshort panties.

Lucas kneeled upright, mirroring Peyton's stance, and her hand moved to rest above his heart. He kissed her slowly as he pulled the panty all the way down to her knees. Always the gentleman, Lucas kept his eyes on hers rather than gawking at her like he did the first time. Peyton, the ever-so-impatient, hooked both index fingers in the waistband of his boxer briefs and pulled them down to his knees without much hesitation. A shiver ran down her spine and Lucas, seeing this, pulled her to him by the waist and her arms wrapped securely around his shoulders. They sighed in content, feeling their bodies align perfectly and mold to fit each other's embrace. As she dropped kisses across his shoulder, Lucas' calloused hands travelled in a fixed motion on the soft skin of her back—up, down, halfway up, and then back again. He grunted into her hair when she arched into him a little more.

"I…want…I-I need—" he stuttered incoherently.

"Me too," she answered, knowing what he was trying to say, "I want you, Lucas."

His lips captured hers in a bruising kiss. Did she not realize what her words did to him? He quickly reached for his abandoned wallet and his abrupt movement startled her.

"What are you doing?"

"Condom. I need a condom," He answered breathlessly as he fished for the hidden packet.

"Oh," she blushed, feeling naïve. The wallet was tossed aside, most likely landing on the floor somewhere, and she listened to what sounded like a package being ripped open. "Hey, Luke?"

He stopped his frantic movements, finally noticing Peyton's sudden shyness. He cupped her cheek with his free hand, a look of concern etched across his features, "What is it, Babe?"

Hearing the term of endearment made her lips twitch into a smile, "I…can I do it?"

Lucas smiled back as he nodded, "Of course."

Sitting back against his legs, Lucas held Peyton's wrist in his hand to bring her closer. He watched her every move as she fumbled nervously with the foil wrapper, she gingerly pinched the latex between her fingers like it was a foreign object. Before she became even more flustered than she already was, Lucas gently took her hand in his and helped guide her. The moment her hand came in contact with his member, her cheeks turned a deep crimson and Lucas quickly kissed her to reassure that she was doing just fine. Once the condom was in place, Peyton's hand remained at the base of his shaft.

He tilted her chin up with his index finger, "If you want to stop—"

"I'm fine," she cut him off, "I mean, yeah, I'm nervous but…" she climbed onto his lap with a smile on her face and a quick shrug, "I've never felt safer than when I'm with you."

Their noses tapped together lovingly as Peyton's legs wrapped around him. One of his palms held her by the small of her back and the other cupped the back of her head. They kissed slowly, passionate and deep, as Lucas guided her back to the mattress. His hands trailed down her sides and the sole of her right foot slid down his left leg, settling comfortably on the curve of his strong calf. She gasped into his mouth and her fingers pressed into his skin when his index finger came in contact with her slick folds. The bedroom suddenly lacked oxygen and her insides felt like they were on fire.

"Lucas…" she moaned. Lucas bit his lip, knowing that he wouldn't last much longer if she kept saying his name like that.

"I need to be inside you," he breathed against her skin

She nodded; licking her lips nervously, "I'm scared."

The fingers in Lucas' free hand threaded through hers as he rested their joined hands right beside her head.

"I'll hold your hand to help get you through then."

They both laughed, knowing that holding his hand was the only way she could be in a moving vehicle. But Peyton had to admit, it was incredibly sweet of him then and just as sweet of him right now. Stretching her neck out, she kissed him roughly. While her mind was elsewhere, Lucas took the opportunity to slowly push into her. Her lids squeezed tightly together and the grip on his hand tightened tenfold. She took her bottom lip between her teeth and clamped down harshly, trying to muffle the whimper that threatened to escape.

Her nails were digging into his skin, but he pushed the pain aside. He wasn't even fully inside her yet and he already knew they were a perfect fit—she wrapped around him and accommodated to his size deliciously—but he ignored the intense pleasure, for the time being, when he noticed that she was holding her breath.

"Breathe," he whispered in her ear as he brushed back the hairs sticking to her forehead, "Breathe, Peyt."

He stopped pushing and stayed still inside her, waiting for the pain to subside. She blinked repeatedly, trying to hold back the tears as Lucas kissed her cheeks and rubbed their noses together.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded, "W-why'd you stop? Why aren't you moving?"

"There's no rush."

"I'm fine, Lucas. You can—"

"We can wait," Lucas gently insisted, "We'll both know when you're ready," his fingers trailed up her side and he whispered against her lips, "Relax."

A few seconds passed, they kissed and hands roamed until Lucas finally felt the tension in her thighs release, her body started to relax against him. While she kissed his neck, his hips started to move as he almost pulled out and then pushed in deeper. This time a mix between a whimper and pleasurable moan vibrated behind his ear as her teeth grazed his fleshy earlobe. The pain soon turned into an intoxicating sensation—a satisfying whirlwind of Lucas moving expertly above her, his cologne, the sweet nothings whispered in her ear. She would never replace this moment, or imagine it with _anyone_ else other than Lucas. _Never_.

Peyton finally picked up on Lucas' rhythmic thrusts and she started to move her hips, meeting him with her own. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and finally let out a low moan from deep within his throat. The movement of her hips urged him to quicken the pace and Lucas didn't hold back. He wasn't rough or animalistic, but the new pace was welcomed with the most amazing string of breathy sighs and moaning from the girl beneath him—who was he to deny her? Their lips molded together, their tongues playing against one another as they muffled each other's moans. Just as they were nearing their release, Peyton nearly lost her balance and changed the angle of her hips.

"Shit," Lucas cursed as he bowed his head at the new sensation. When they didn't think it could get any better, everything suddenly intensified when her hips shifted and he pushed into new, unexplored depths within her.

"Oh god, Luke. Please, don't stop," she whimpered, trying to catch her breath, "Don't stop…god, don't stop…"

Those words had his hips moving in a frantic pace and that familiar pressure began to build in his lower abdomen. Her mouth formed an 'o', her back arched, and his lips attacked the exposed flesh under her jaw while his free hand massaged the silky smooth skin of her upper thigh. A thin layer of sweat coated their heated skin. Beaded moisture formed between her breasts and both their foreheads as night neared to blissful end.

"Come with me, Peyt," he inhaled sharply at the beautiful, erotic sight beneath him. She held the corner of her bottom lip tightly between her teeth, holding back a moan or a scream—whatever it was, Lucas wanted to hear it.

His hand reached between them, his thumb lightly brushed her clit once and unleashed the most amazing chain of events. Her teeth immediately released her bottom lip as her nails dug into his shoulder blades. Her back arched even more, pressing her erect nipples into his strong chest and what she was holding back blew Lucas away—

"Ooooh _fuck_!" Her brow furrowed as her orgasm hit, "Fuck, Lucas…_fuck…_"

Her orgasm triggered his own release as he kissed her wildly. He moaned her name into her mouth and they rode out the last waves of ecstasy together. Holding his weight became a challenge when his elbows started to give out. Lucas rolled them over until she lay sprawled out on top of him and their lips remained locked. When they finally broke away, Peyton rested her flushed cheek against his chest while his fingers trailed up and down her spine.

"That was…you…I'm…" she trailed off, still panting, "I-I don't think I can feel my legs."

Lucas laughed at her incoherence and inability to form a sentence other than 'I can't feel my legs'. He, on the other hand, concentrated on regulating his breathing and structured his sentence before speaking.

"Are you saying I broke you?" He teased as his fingers brushed her curls to aside.

"No," Peyton lifted her head, smiling at him as she shook her head, "I'm pretty sure you just fixed me."

A broad smile appeared before their lips came together for a sweet kiss, "I'm really glad you told me the truth."

She shrugged as her palm rested above his still racing heart. Her brow immediately creased in worry.

"Lucas, are you sure you're going to be alright."

"I'm sure, nothing is going to happen to me," He ran a thumb across her smooth chin.

"But how do you know?!" She nearly cried as she deflated against him, her cheek pressed to his chest to feel each beat and her ear listening to every lub-dub sound.

"Well, you see," he ran his fingers through her curls, "When I was in high school they gave me this medication that slows down my heart rate. That's why I can't play basketball; it would have been too much strain on my heart."

Her arms tucked into his sides in a makeshift hug, "Tell me about it."

"Basketball or my heart?"

"All of it," she whispered as she closed her eyes.

Lucas reached for the folded blanket from on one of the pillows and threw it over them. Just as Lucas' low rumbling voice started, the candle flickered for a moment before the flame died out in a puff of smoke.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:**_ Techinical difficulties and holidays make it hard on a girl to update. I apologize._

_Happy holidays everyone! I hope you enjoy the update and and thank you so, **so** much for the reviews on the last chapter--they mean so much to me. _

_If I don't get to update by then, have a good new year!_

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**Chapter 7**

The sun's early rays filtered through the shear curtains, casting a vibrant glow upon the occupied bed. One lover slept soundly while the other propped himself up on an elbow and watched her sleep. A soft, sleepy sigh left her lips and the corner of his twitched upward into a smile. It's the first time he's ever seen her like this and would be damned if he didn't take his time appreciating her beauty. His blue eyes shifted away from her peach colored lips, following the trail of blonde curls that cascaded down her bare back. Her golden mess of curls ended mid-shoulder blade and the only skin exposed to his prying blue eyes was the small sliver between her hair and the white bed sheet.

That was nowhere near enough skin for his taste.

Lucas boldly pushed the sheet further down to her hips, his eyes traveled over the newly revealed expanse of skin. As he carefully brushed her hair aside, his mouth suddenly went dry—it was a perfect view of her entire back. So much skin—flawless, smooth, and _incredibly _soft—he needed to touch her. His large palm settled on her lower back, just above her sheet covered hips, and his thumb caressed her skin. Those blue eyes slowly travelled up, following the slight curve of her spine before quickly jumping to her face when she shivered. He pulled the sheets, including the blanket, back up to its previous position and pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder, allowing her scent and the taste of her skin to invade his senses.

"Did you just lick me?" Her sleep filled, muffled voice startled him. He leaned back to see her smiling softly while her eyes remained shut.

"What are you talking about?" Lucas teased as he brought his hand up to caress the skin between her neck and shoulder. Peyton giggled as she buried her face into the pillow. She laid her head back to its previous position and sighed contently.

"How are you feeling?" He asked softly as his eyes dropped to watch his finger trail her skin.

Her lips twitched upward, "I guess I feel how I'm suppose to feel, right?"

"Right…"

As she turned to her side, her brow furrowed, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he mumbled. Her hand dragged across the space between them, searching for some kind of skin contact. Lucas watched as her fingers wrapped around his flexed bicep that supported his weight; when she moved her body closer to his, he took a deep breath knowing she wasn't fully convinced by his answer.

"Talk to me."

"It's nothing."

"Lucas," she squeezed his bicep.

"I don't…" he looked away, "I just don't want you to regret last night—regret _me_."

"I don't, I _won't_—"

"And I don't want this to just be _this_," he finished quietly.

Peyton bit her lip, moving her hand up his shoulder, following the contours upward toward his face. Lucas took her hand in his and placed her soft palm on his cheek, somehow knowing that was where she was heading. Peyton simply smiled at the gesture. Leaning up on her forearm, she moved forward and Lucas met her halfway with a tender kiss—a kiss very different any of the others. He pulled back and watched her eyes slowly open.

"What do you want this to be?" Her voice was soft and the slow caress of her thumb on the apple of his cheek made Lucas take a deep breath.

"More," he watched for her reaction, "I don't want this to just be about what happened last night—it was great, _amazing_ actually," he chuckled before continuing, "but I want this to be more than that."

"Me too," she whispered.

His blue eyes lit up, "Really?"

A smile formed upon those lips, "Mhm."

"Good," he quickly leaned forward and kissed her, smiling against her lips as she giggled.

Peyton broke the kiss as she let herself fall back against the pillows, taking the bed sheet with her as she held up to her chest. A devilish smirk spread across his face as he gently tugged on the sheet. Peyton, however, bashfully held on tight.

"I'm cold," she lied as a red tint filled her cheeks.

"You're not cold," he leaned in closer, "I've already seen you and you're perfect, Peyton."

His grin grew when her cheeks turned into a deeper shade of red.

"Yeah, but that was last _night_. I'm, I'm just…" she stumbled on her words when Lucas pressed a kiss to her temple and he started so slowly pry her fingers away from the sheet, "I'm not perfect Lucas, you've probably seen a million gorgeous, porn star looking girls before."

"Okay, first off," he pulled her closer so her side pressed into his front, "Daylight will only enhance your beauty because you are _insanely_ gorgeous. Secondly, you _are _perfect," she smiled, "and third, I haven't been with _that _many women and even if I have, those girls have nothing on you, Peyton Sawyer. Unless you'd like to prove me wrong?"

Her lips screwed to the side as she shook her head, "I think I believe you."

"Then," Lucas tugged at the sheet as his voice dropped to a throaty whisper, "let go."

This time there was no resistance; the sheet slipped away and his eyes followed—cerulean instantly became shades darker. She was glowing and it had nothing to do with the way the sunlight radiated off her exposed skin. His calloused finger tips spread across her smooth stomach as he looked up, she had her bottom lip between her teeth and she continued to blush.

Lucas leaned in, bringing his lips to the shell of her ear, "When are you going to believe me when I say you're beautiful?"

Peyton turned her head and he looked into her darkened green eyes.

"I'm starting to believe it," she whispered.

They kissed slowly as Lucas' hand danced over her abdomen and his fingers traced circles around her navel. She tugged at his arms, pulling some of his comforting weight on top of her as the kiss deepened. Their lips moved hungrily and both moaned appreciatively. Panting heavily, Lucas pulled away when her hand trialed below his waistline.

"We can't," his voice was hoarse.

"W-wha—but you said…"

"I know, I know," he laughed, though it really wasn't funny, "but we used my only condom, so we really can't do _that_."

"Oh." She chuckled softly, "I'm sorry."

"Nuh-uh," he moved, holding his weight above her as they kissed, "that just means I have to improvise."

As he trailed kisses down her neck, Peyton laughed and threaded her fingers through his soft hair, "Improvise?"

Lucas moved back up to silence her questions with a long, sensual kiss while his hands lightly trailed down her sides. She quietly moaned into their kiss when his hands rested on each of her thighs and he kneaded the insides with his thumbs. Lucas pulled away from the kiss to watch her facial expression. Flushed cheeks, curls splayed out on the white pillow, and green eyes hooded with desire—it was a vision of perfection, she _had_ to be some kind of goddess. Her hands reached out for him, pulling his lips back down for another kiss, this one more heated than the last. He moved his right hand, running finger between her folds and Peyton broke the kiss with a moan.

"You like that?" Lucas asked and watched her nod, "Good," he kissed her temple as she turned her head gasping for air.

"Good," she mumbled, squirming under his touch, "So, so…so good."

Lucas smirked before bringing his lips close to her ear and whispered, "This is nothing, baby."

"Huh?" She whimpered as she felt his body drag down her body. As soon as his mouth came in contact with her center, Peyton's hips jerked upward and her fingers threaded through his hair at the back of his head. Taking that as encouragement, Lucas' tongue reached out to taste her for the first time. Peyton's free hand flew back over her head and gripped the pillow tightly.

"Oh my god," she moaned mid-gasp.

- - - -

"Stay a little longer," Peyton mumbled into his hooded sweatshirt.

Smiling into her curls, Lucas tightened his hold around her shoulders, "I'll be back on Tuesday."

She grabbed a fist full of his sweater and shook her head. They've been standing in the foyer saying goodbye for the past fifteen minutes and every time he tried to pull away they'd end up making out instead. Lucas tilted her chin up for a quick forehead kiss; then, just as they moved in for another kiss, the front door opened and both blondes jumped apart.

"Peyton!" Larry dropped his luggage and swept his daughter up into a bear hug, "I'm so sorry, sweetheart!"

Lucas watched them, wondering if Larry caught their embrace, and he swallowed thickly.

"Lucas!"

His fearful blue eyes snapped up to see Larry, a wide grin on his face and an outstretched hand. Lucas timidly placed his hand in Larry's and smiled uneasily.

"What's the matter, boy? You look like you're going to be sick," Larry laughed heartily as he shook his hand.

Sneaking a glance in Peyton's direction, Lucas saw the same worried look on her features. They completely forgot to talk about this little glitch in their relationship. And that glitch was Larry Sawyer.

"I'm just a little tired, Sir," Lucas brushed it off with a nervous smile.

"Don't tell me this little one kept you up all night," he gestured toward Peyton and all color drained from Lucas' face. Larry wrapped an arm around her shoulder to pull her into his side, "I tried to get here as soon as humanly possible. I'm so sorry."

Peyton held her father tightly, "That's alright, Daddy. Besides, Lucas kept me company and we talked the whole night."

It was the truth. Just not the _whole_ truth.

"Really?" Larry raised an eyebrow in Lucas' direction before looking back down to his daughter. "So, you slept well? No night terrors or trouble sleeping?"

Lucas grinned when the corner of her lip twitched upward and she shook her head. It was a brief moment where it was just the two of them sharing a secret no one else knew—they completely forgot about the third, very important, party in the room. Larry placed a firm hand on Lucas' shoulder; the younger blonde flinched at the gesture.

"Thank you, Lucas. You're a good kid."

He winced internally. Larry wouldn't call him a _good kid_ if knew what _really _happened last night.

"Anything for Peyton," He replied and saw the blush creep up her cheeks, but Larry missed the innuendos and didn't make anything out of his daughter's sudden 'friendly' behavior. Lucas picked up his duffle bag and reached for the doorknob, "I think I should get going. See you guys on Tuesday."

"Alright, I still owe you one!" Larry called after him then turned to Peyton, "That boy's acting really strange."

She smiled nervously, "Yeah."

"Well," he clapped his hands together, "What do you say to a father-daughter lunch? You must be starving!"

"Sure." Not really. Lucas actually helped her make a late breakfast—her first time making French toast. "You go ahead, I wanted to catch Lucas and tell him something about Tuesday."

Larry nodded, "Okay. Grab a coat, its cold out."

She smiled, listening and waiting for her father exit the foyer before she yanked the front door open. Her heart raced as she stepped out onto the front porch, the crisp November air bringing goosebumps to her flesh—there was no time to put on a coat.

"Lucas!"

He spun around at the sound of her voice and dropped his bag next to his car. She held out a hand and within a second his hand grasped hers, pulling her to him.

"It's cold out here. Are you crazy?!" His hands ran up and down her chilled arms as she snuggled closer to his warmth.

"We—we can't tell him!"

"Peyton…"

She knew he was going to protest, "No, Luke! We _can't_! He won't understand and he won't let us see each other. We can't tell him, not yet."

"So…" he trailed off, fearing the worse, "What do we do? What does this mean? Is there no us?"

_Us_. Hearing him refer to them as an 'us' made her heart flutter and a broad smile appeared on her lips. She gripped the front of his sweatshirt and shook her head.

"I can't go back to pretending. Not after last night," her smile faltered slightly, "We…we'll just wait to tell him about us. When I'm eighteen and you don't have to be my tutor anymore, we'll tell him that we're interested in still seeing each other beyond that. We'll tell him in the spring."

"Spring?" His brow shot up, "You want us to hide this until _spring_?"

"You don't know my dad, Lucas. He _won't_ understand!"

"Then we'll make him understand or he'll just have to deal with it!"

"And what if he doesn't?!" She whispered harshly. "Not only would he fire you but he can report you to the _university_! What happens then?!"

Lucas' expression softened as he dropped his gaze. The consequences began to weigh heavily on his shoulders, but there wasn't a single regretful bone in his body. Every second spent with Peyton held a sacred place in his heart and he couldn't bear to lose what they've just started. His large palms rubbed her arms; the thin red tee shirt did nothing to protect her from the sudden gust of wind.

"You do still want to be with me, right?" her brow creased, "I-I mean if you don't want to—if the university—"

"Of course I want to be with you," he cut her off, bringing her closer. "Spring, right?"

She breathed in relief and nodded, "Spring. I'll be eighteen and done with home schooling, you'll no longer be my father's employee."

"Okay," he quickly glanced through the stained glass, making sure Larry wasn't in the foyer, "In the meantime, can I still do this?"

Lucas pushed against her lower back until her body pressed up against his. Peyton hummed in approval as his arms wrapped around her, shielding her from the cold.

"You can do a little more than that," she rubbed his firm chest. Lucas tilted her chin up for a proper kiss goodbye—a kiss that lasted longer than both intended. She tugged on his sweater to bring him closer and his hand disappeared in her curls as the kiss deepened. Their foreheads touched and their eyes remained shut.

"I should go," he whispered. All she could do was bite her lip and nod. Giving her one last, quick kiss, Lucas held her at arms length, "You need to get back inside."

"Yeah," she backed away, toward the door, "Tuesday."

"Tuesday."

He waited until she was inside before he walked back to his car. There were still million things they had to sort out, but for now…Lucas Scott couldn't be any happier. Everything else could wait.

- - - -

"Lucas!"

A harsh whisper broke through his thoughts. Judging by the look on his best friend and brother's faces, he must have been out of it for quite some time. This is the third time she's had to get him to focus and she made no effort to mask her irritation. Nathan's blue eyes narrowed as he watched his big brother smile sheepishly.

"What is with you today?" Haley shook her head.

Lucas looked between the two and chuckled nervously, "Nothing. I'm just lacking sleep."

Nathan kinked an eyebrow, paying no attention to his disgruntled wife. Studying was her top priority; Getting to the bottom of Lucas' strange behavior was Nathan's. Haley huffed as she stood up, mumbling something about looking for a different book before walking off. While Lucas watched her leave, Nathan's blue eyes narrowed to tiny slits and never left his brother.

"I'll get the report done! What is she so worried about?" Lucas flipped to the next page—even though he didn't read the last three—and missed his brother's prying eyes.

"What did you do?"

The question made Lucas meet his brother's eyes, "What?"

"You're acting weird," he sized his brother up, reading his body language. "You did something. What did you do?"

"I'm fine, Nate. Just—"

"You had sex." Lucas' head snapped up and his eyes widened. A smug grin appeared, "I knew it. Question is…" he leaned forward, "was it the busty redhead in your psych class or Peyton?"

Shifty eyes, a nervous laugh, and at loss for words—that was answer enough for Nathan. As soon as that Scott smirk emerged, Lucas knew he had been caught.

"You can't say anything," he whispered quickly.

"Just so you know—when I told you to give her a chance _that's_ not what I meant."

"I didn't go in there with an agenda. It just happened."

"So…what? It was just a one time thing?"

"No, it's not like that," Lucas shook his head and glanced in the direction Haley left, "We really like each other."

Nathan rolled his eyes, "Tell me something I didn't already know."

"Right. Well, we…we want to keep seeing each other—more than friends—"

"You guys were never friends. You jumped from tutor and student to…" Nathan shook his head, "well, _jumping_ into bed!"

"_Nate_…" Lucas grimaced.

"Alright, I'll stop," Nathan laughed as he checked to see if his wife was coming, "Is it official then? You two are together?"

Lucas took a deep breath, "I…we haven't really worked out all those details yet. We want to be together but we're, um…we haven't told Larry yet. We're going to wait."

"Wait?"

"Until spring to tell him."

"Hold on," Nathan held up a hand, "Let me get this straight. You two are," he gestured air quotes, "_together,_ but going to hide it for, what, five months?"

"It's not as bad as it sounds, it makes sense actually." Lucas saw the apprehensive expression on his brother's face, "She'll be eighteen and done with her schooling. Her father wouldn't have a plausible reason to say no or keep us apart."

"And what about the months in between? You're just going to sneak around and risk it anyway? Just hand the job off to someone else and—"

"And risk Larry not letting me see her?" Lucas cut in desperately. Nathan didn't expect that reaction. "I don't want that to happen, Nate. I won't let it."

Nathan sighed, watching Haley round the corner, "Just be careful man."

"I will," Lucas nodded, then shook his head, "I just can't lose her. Not now. Not after she told me how she feels and our night together. I can't…"

"I know," Nathan said quietly just as Haley sat down next to him. She looked between the two brothers, feeling as though something happened while she was gone.

"What did I miss?" She asked lightly. Nathan and Lucas shared a look as their mouths formed a straight line.

"You have no idea."

- - - -

There was an extra bounce in his step as he entered the Sawyer household that Tuesday evening. Comet bounded down the stairs to greet him and a large grin spread across Lucas' features as he scratched behind the dog's floppy ear.

"Where is she, boy?! Where is she?"

He rounded the corner and his smile disappeared when he saw Larry sitting behind the desk, a stern look on his face.

_Shit_.

"Lucas."

_This is it._

"Mr. Sawyer?"

"Call me Sir."

_Oh god…_

"Yes, Sir."

He pointed to the couch as he stood up, "Have a seat."

Lucas quickly did as he was told, never taking his eyes off Larry Sawyer as the man paced back and forth. The pacing stopped and his heart fell to his stomach when Larry stood in front of him. His brown eyes burned a hole right down to the blue-eyed boy's retinas and the Lucas wished he were looking into kind green eyes, instead, if this was going to be the end.

"I thought I made the rules clear, boy," Larry started, his voice powerful and in control, "Did I not make them clear?"

"Y-Yes, you did, Sir."

Larry walked away, standing behind the desk once more, "If I made them clear then why don't you follow them?"

"W-what do you mean?" Lucas smiled despite his racing heart.

"I looked at the stacks of books I gave you. I see that they've been collecting dust. You haven't been tutoring my daughter, Lucas…"

_Fuck. _

"…in fact, I know what you've been doing. _Both _of you."

_Double fuck._

"I can explain, Sir!" Lucas jumped to his feet and approached the desk.

"I hope so," Larry swiveled the laptop around and Lucas stopped, looking at the screen. "This is a brand new company laptop. I left it on my desk last night opened to a blank email, and imagine my surprise when I wake up this morning to find it written on."

Lucas gave him a puzzled look, "What…what does this have to do with me, Sir?"

Larry tapped the screen, "It's addressed to Brooke."

He looked back down to see an unfinished letter to Brooke—unfinished, but lengthy enough to bring a smile to Lucas' face.

"I'm waiting for that explanation."

He shrugged, with a smug grin. His nerves disappeared as Larry became a little less threatening.

"I've been teaching her how to type," Lucas answered, "You know, give her a little bit more independence and privacy between the two of them."

"I see," Larry nodded as he rubbed his scratchy chin, "Is there a problem with my idea of an education?"

"No, no. I just think Peyton has more potential than you'd expect."

Larry raised an eyebrow, "Really?"

"Really." Lucas clasped both hands behind his back and lifted his chin, a stance that dared Larry to challenge him.

His mouth screwed to one side, "Alright then. But the next time you change plans, you run them through me. Got it?"

Lucas nodded, "Of course. Sorry for that, Sir."

"Good," Larry rounded the desk and started to leave.

"Sir," He called out and Larry turned, "Actually, I do have an idea."

"Shoot."

Lucas approached him, "Let's walk and talk."

"Alright," they exited the study side-by-side.

"And Lucas?" Larry stood in front of him, "I know my daughter can't see and all, but I'd appreciate it if you'd cover those type of things up."

Lucas' brow furrowed in confusion. He was about to ask what he meant when Larry gestured to his own neck and then pointed to Lucas'. His hand quickly covered the purple mark where the collar of his shirt came down and Larry smiled uneasily.

"It's just…it's inappropriate, you know?" He clapped Lucas on the shoulder before continuing their walk down the hall.

Lucas nodded numbly as he adjusted his tee shirt and the collar of his button up.

- - - -

"Are you sure it's okay for Comet to come along?" Peyton asked as she trailed behind Lucas.

"Yes," Lucas smiled as he gave her hand a squeeze.

He pushed the double doors open and allowed for Peyton to walk in before him. She stood alone, clutching Comet's leash tightly, and waited for Lucas. The sound of a large switch startled her and she spun around, her hand searching for Lucas'.

"Where are we?"

"This, my dear," he walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, "is the University of North Carolina's art studio."

"_Okay_," Peyton laughed as her free hand trailed along the forearm he had around her middle, "What did you do? Kill the janitor for his keys or something?"

"Something like that," he joked. He burst into laughter when her smile faltered. "I'm kidding, Peyt. One of my friends works for the department and she owed me."

"Owed you?" She kinked an eyebrow and twisted around to face him, "Is this friend of yours pretty?"

Lucas kissed her gently as he walked them backward, "Wouldn't even matter. There's only one girl for me."

Peyton smiled coyly, "You're such a talker."

"Ha ha," he deadpanned. Stepping behind her, Lucas placed his hands on her hips and guided her toward a large canvas, "Now, if you're done bruising my ego—we've got some work to do."

"Work?"

"You're going to paint."

Peyton took a step back, colliding with his firm chest, and shook her head, "Oh no, no, no, no…"

"Come on, it'll be fine."

"Lucas," she sighed, "Not this. I-I can't even see anything. I have to _see_!"

"Art is what you make it, Peyt. Just don't think about it and paint."

"This isn't going to work. How am I going to know where to put the brush?!"

"You don't need a brush."

Her eyebrows knitted together, "I don't?"

"Nope," he made a popping noise with his lips as he dipped his thumb in red paint, "Its called finger painting."

His thumb ran across her cheek, smearing the cool red paint on her and she let out a shriek.

"Fine," she laughed, wiping the paint off with her sleeve.

"That's my girl," he kissed her paint-free cheek as he took Comet's leash and tied it to a nearby table leg. He took her hand and guided it over the palette. "Paints are here," he took her other hand and placed her palm on the canvas, "Canvas is here. Just have fun and take your time."

Her fingers looped through his before he could pull away, "Help me?"

The hours passed by with laughter. Their hands were coated in a messy, colorful blend of paint and they gave each other soft kisses that led to more laughter. Lucas saw a sparkle in her eye and she smiled a little bit more. He wondered if that had to do with the painting or him, or maybe even both.

"How does it look?" she huffed while backing away from the canvas. Lucas reached out, taking her by the hips and pulling her onto his lap as he sat on a tall stool.

"I love it," he whispered in her ear.

When she tilted her head to a side, Lucas rested his chin on her shoulder and she smiled, "Really?"

"Yeah," he breathed.

The painting was a mosaic of colors, swirling and blending together without looking like a sickly brown mixture of pigment. And then the center—the center was his favorite. He didn't know if she did it on purpose or if she even knew what she had done, but Lucas could make out the distinct curved lines of a heart traced by her fingers. He could have asked her if she meant to paint a heart, but he didn't. He just smiled and kissed the hinge of her jaw.

"I love it," he whispered against her skin.

Peyton turned and kissed him slowly, letting that dizzy feeling take over as she slipped her tongue past the seam of his lips to deepen the kiss. He hummed against her tongue and hands slid under her shirt, his fingers spreading across the skin of her lower back. She slid off his lap and stepped in the space he created between his legs.

"I really like you," she nuzzled her nose against his, "I like you _a lot_."

"Me too," he whispered back. It was the safe route. Any other choice words would have been too soon and he didn't want to scare her off. Those types of feelings even scared _him_.

"We're going to be okay, right?" She asked timidly.

Lucas bit his lip and nodded, "Yeah. Everything is going to be alright."

Their foreheads touched and they just held each other.

- - - -

It's been a month. A month of giggling behind closed doors during the day. A month of sneaking across the hall at night and then back to her room in the morning, before Larry or April would notice. A month of breathy sighs, quiet moaning, and muffled cries of passion in the night—she was suppose to be in her own bed and he was suppose to be an exhausted college student in the guest bedroom, but they couldn't stay away, and all the risks were forgotten in the heat of the moment.

They just _couldn't_ stay away.

April must have known or suspected. One Saturday afternoon, they had the house to themselves and the pair ended up curled up on the couch for a nap. Lucas stirred awake, Peyton still sleeping on top of him and her arms tucked underneath her body for warmth. After rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he looked up to find April standing in the doorway with wrinkled grin and her eyes full of kindness. Lucas panicked, moving to get up, but April held a hand up to stop him and put a finger to her mouth to silence him, and signifying her own silence.

How much the housekeeper really knew was a mystery. But she kept her silence about that day and any other information she knew. Larry was either never around or he simply didn't suspect a thing.

But weekends like this one were bliss. Larry was away on another trip and April was given the weekend off (Peyton's doing, of course). It was just the two of them, lying in bed wrapped up in each other with tangled bed sheets and no need to hide.

"Is December over yet?" She threw a leg over his and lightly dragged her nails across his chest.

"No," he let his palm rest on her naked thigh with a sigh.

This morning, however, was bittersweet.

"I don't want you to go," she groaned, "You should stay."

"And where do you suggest I stay? I have to move out of the dorm by the end of the week."

"I don't know. I just, I just don't want you to go!"

Peyton shifted so her body lay completely on top of his. Lucas looked up into her saddened green eyes; a curtain of blonde curls fell down, brushing against his cheeks and creating shadows on her porcelain features. He brushed his fingers through those soft curls and held them back, away from her face, and smiled.

"I'll be back," he said softly.

Her shoulders sagged, "Promise?"

"Promise." They brushed noses before he reached up and took her bottom lip between his. An involuntary grunt broke their kiss when she rocked her hips against his. "Wait, wait," he said breathlessly.

"What?" She kissed him again but he pulled away before it turned into something more than a kiss.

"I want to give you something," he sat up with Peyton straddling his waist. His eyes travelled down—her naked body was such a distraction. Reaching over the side of the bed, he picked up his shirt from the floor and pulled it over her head. "I can't concentrate with you looking so…so naked."

Peyton laughed as she moved off his lap and threaded her arms through the long sleeves while he stepped into his boxers and undershirt.

"I'll be right back. Don't move!" Lucas called over his shoulder.

A few minutes later he returned with a black box in his hand. When he rounded the corner, he skidded to a stop and his mouth fell open. She was sitting back on her legs, only her knees poking out with his oversized tee shirt coming off her shoulder, and those long sleeves wrapped around her fists (to warm her cold fingers, he guessed). Watching a woman tuck hair behind her ear had never looked sexier than it did right now.

And she was waiting for him.

_Sexy_.

"Are you going to just stare at me all day?" She smiled coyly.

"Just admiring the view," Lucas sauntered into the room. Peyton kneeled upright on the bed and the shirt's hem fell, only reaching her mid-thigh. In an instant the two lovebirds were wrapped up in a tight embrace, their foreheads touching and eyes closed.

"How'd you know I came back?" He asked after a moment of silence.

"You drag your feet in the morning so there's this weird shuffling noise when you walk," she pressed closer to him and he smiled, "I kind of know you a little more than you think, Mr. Scott. I know things about you that _you _don't even know."

"I know a thing or two about you, too, Miss. Sawyer."

"Is that so?"

"Mhm," he pulled away, "Stay still, alright?"

"What are you doing?"

Peyton reached out for him as soon as his body left hers but he sidestepped out of her reach. The bed shifted behind her and something light rested under her collar bone.

"Lucas…" she trailed off, her fingers brushing against the dangling emerald around her neck. Lucas fastened the clasp behind her neck and watched the gold chain glisten against her skin.

He wrapped his around her, pulling her back against his chest, "Since I won't get to see you for Christmas, and today _is _our one month anniversary, I thought I'd get you a little something."

"Luke, you shouldn't have," she said softly with a smile, "I didn't even get you anything!"

"You're all that I need," he shook his head and pressed a kiss to her neck, "I'm going to miss you _so_ much."

Her smile faded, "I wish you didn't live so far…"

"I wish I could take you with me. My mom would love you."

"Oh I don't know about that," she chuckled, "A pain in the ass, blind girlfriend isn't exactly take-home material."

He smiled against her neck, "You said girlfriend."

"That's what I am, _right_?" she challenged.

"Yeah, I just never heard you say it before," he whispered, "Sounds nice."

"I've got an idea," hopping off the bed, Peyton tugged at his hand, "Come on!"

She pulled him into the hall, toward her bedroom, and told him to wait outside the door. A minute later she emerged, a huge smile on her face as she invited him in and directed him to the chair in front of the computer.

"First, I want you to stop the webcam from streaming live." She tapped a hand on the tee shirt covered camera.

He took a seat and did as she asked, "Okay."

"Done?"

"Done," he replied. She quickly sat on his lap and uncovered the webcam, "What are you doing, wily?" He laughed.

"I am going to record a take home message for you. Open up a new email and hit record," she ordered excitedly. Lucas could only laugh as he set everything up. "Ready."

"Is it recording?"

"It is now."

"Okay," she settled comfortably on his lap and Lucas watched their smiling images onscreen. Peyton began to speak to the camera, "Hi! This is a very special video message…Christmas gift…type of thing for the world greatest tutor, Mr. Lucas Eugene Scott."

"Eugene?" Lucas interrupted, "Did you really have to middle name me?"

"_Yes_," she elbowed him lightly before readdressing the webcam. "As I was saying—Lucas, I want you to watch this video every time you feel you're missing your favorite student. Me!" They both chuckled, "I know can be a ruthless bitch to you sometimes, but I want you to know that I'm going to miss you, too."

The sadness in her voice made his heart clench. He dropped his gaze and began tracing circles on her bare thigh.

"I hope you tell your family good things about me and that you have tons of fun," she continued, pausing to take a deep breath as his hand inched its way up her thigh, "Make sure you don't forget me, though. Because I'll still be here, waiting for you."

Lucas let out a quick breath as his other hand gripped her hip tightly, "God, I-I…"

He wanted to finally say those three words. They've been at the tip of his tongue for days now, wanting to come out just to tell her how he really feels. But it was too soon, right? Love was a strong emotion—and Lucas was head-over-heels in love with Peyton. He just didn't know how to say it—so he showed her instead.

"I can't wait to come back to you," he mumbled into her shoulder before kissing her neck.

Peyton closed her eyes and her breathing grew shallow as his thumb rubbed against the juncture between her thigh and the place where she started to crave him the most. She turned her head and touched her nose to his cheek.

"Touch me," she whispered seductively as she spread her legs apart.

Lucas willingly obliged and they both groaned at contact—she in sheer pleasure and he in arousal at her wetness. His other hand maneuvered its way underneath, resting on her stomach and pulling her back flush to his front. Peyton began rolling her hips while his fingers continued working her. She reached back, her arm looping around their heads as she massaged the back of his neck. By the sounds she was making and her movements on his lap creating the perfect amount of friction—Lucas hardened within seconds.

"Luke…" she whispered breathlessly, her eyes still closed, "the…the c-camera. Camera…"

He nibbled on her earlobe and inwardly smiled when she shivered. Looking up, Lucas' arousal heightened tenfold at the image onscreen. The camera continued to record them as Lucas' hand hid underneath the shirt she wore, still working her as she sat in full view of the camera moving in time with him.

"Luke," Peyton whimpered as she dropped her head back to his shoulder. She was close and Lucas had to bite back a moan—he was so turned on as he watched what he was doing to her. "Lucas the camera."

He shook his head and husked in her ear, "Leave it. You have no idea how beautiful you look right now."

The hand pressing against her stomach moved up to her naked breast. He watched her expression change and breathing increase. Peyton applied more pressure down on his lap, slowly grinding into his erection and biting her bottom lip when he grunted, his hand moving faster.

"Oh, Lucas, baby…" she gasped. Her other hand moved down to press the back of his and apply more pressure, "Just like that. That's good…"

When her sentences became incoherent and her back arched away from his chest, Lucas stopped massaging her breast and turned her head. She cried out his name before his lips claimed hers in a passionate kiss, muffling any sounds she made in ecstasy. He felt her thighs quiver in his lap from the aftermath, and she panted heavily, eyes blinking heavily. They sat like that for a few minutes as Peyton regulated her breathing and Lucas kissed her neck.

Finally regaining her strength, Peyton shifted until she was kneeling in the chair, still straddling his lap but facing him, "You're so good to me."

"I'm just showing you how you make me feel," he said after she kissed him. Peyton smiled. One of her hands slipped past the elastic of his boxers and wrapped around his erection. He inhaled sharply and gripped her hips tight.

"Is this how I make you feel?" Her tone was an innocent seduction (only she could pull that off) and she stroked him slowly. Long and firm.

"Hmm…yeah," he moaned, dropping his forehead to her chest. Her thumb brushed over his sensitive head and he bucked into her hand.

Leaning forward, Peyton whispered into his ear, "How about you take me back to bed and we show _each other_?"

This woman was a godsend.

- - - -

Lucas placed a suitcase on his bed, ready for packing, when his cell phone rang. His brow furrowed as he answered.

"Mr. Sawyer? Everything alright?"

"Hey, Tutor Boy!" Larry's voice came from the other end, "Everything's fine, but I heard that you're heading home for the holidays after this coming weekend?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Are you busy this Saturday?"

"No, except for packing the rest of my things, I should be free. What's going on?"

"Well I never got the chance to show you my appreciation for everything you've done. I'm hosting the annual Christmas party for my company Saturday evening; I'd like you to come as my guest of honor."

"Mr. Sawyer—"

"I'm not taking no for an answer, Lucas. You've done so much for me and my daughter, it's the least I can do for now."

Lucas chuckled, "I guess I'll be there then."

"Great!" he could practically hear Larry's smile through the phone, "Bring that friend Harriet—"

"Haley."

"Haley. Right, right. Bring her and your brother, I'd like to meet them and thank them personally for giving Peyton a good time."

"I'll be sure to let them know. Thank you, Mr. Sawyer."

"No, thank _you_ Lucas. Besides, you can keep Peyton company, she hates going to these things and getting all dressed up," Larry chuckled, "I'll see you then. Give me a call for the details!"

The line went dead before Lucas could voice his concerns on the dress code. He pulled the phone away from his ear and shook his head, "I hate when he does that…"

- - - -

"Peyton!" Larry called up the stairwell, "Peyton, honey, there's someone here to see you!"

She followed Comet down the stairs, a look of confusion etched on her features, "To see me? Who would—"

"P. Sawyer!!"

Peyton stumbled back as the bubbly brunette tackled her best friend, "Brooke?!"

"Merry Christmas, honey!" Larry beamed from ear to ear.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **_So much going on that I'm forced to make this into a two part chapter. This one is pretty long as it is (sorry!)._

_Then school starts next week, no idea where my break went, but I had to get this one up before then._

_For the record - Lucas lives in Tree Hill and Peyton lives in some random location near UNC. And no, no BLP triangle - I wouldn't do that. Ick. (no offense.)_

_Anyway, enjoy and thank you for all the reviews!!_

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Chapter 8

"What is that?" Her nose crinkled.

April paused, meeting the brunette's hazel-gray eyes, "What is what, Miss Davis?"

"_That_!" She pointed a finger toward the garment hanging in the crook of April's arm. "What _is_ that?"

"It's the dress Mr. Sawyer bought Miss Peyton for tomorrow."

Peyton heard the rustle of Brooke leaving her bed, "_Brooke_."

Ignoring her best friend, she took the dress from April's arm and held it out. The space between her eyebrows creased in concentration and her eyes skimmed over the powdered pink material. Brooke's nose wrinkled and her eyes widened in disgust.

"Okay April, I love you, but _no_," she balled up the dress and handed it back, "My P. Sawyer is not wearing that, that _thing_."

"Brooke, its fine. Whatever my dad bought is _fine_!"

Peyton ambled toward them and took the dress from a speechless April. Brooke snatched the dress back but Peyton held fast.

"Peyton, let go!"

"_Brooke_."

"_Peyton Elizabeth!_"

Middle name. Brooke just middle named her and that was never a good thing. Peyton released the dress with a huff and Brooke flashed a brilliant smile.

"Sorry P, but it would be so unlike me to allow you to wear something like this," Brooke shook her head.

"He does what he can, Brooke," Peyton walked back to her bed.

"Well, tell your dad to stop trying and to always let _me _handle your wardrobe inquiries."

"So what do you suggest I wear to this banquet then?" She let herself fall back on her bed. Brooke handed the dress back to April with a sweet smile before turning her attention back to Peyton.

"You, my friend, are going to wear a B. Davis original," she skipped to Peyton's closet and unzipped the dress bag, "I just need to borrow your body for a few adjustments."

"So all this time, all those emails I've sent you…" Peyton started, her brow creasing, "You knew you were coming out here and you didn't tell me??"

"It was a surprise," Brooke shrugged. She walked over to the curly blonde and smacked her leg, "Now get up, we're having a Girl's Day Out."

"You mean a Day of Torture?" she mumbled under her breath.

Brooke twisted around and kinked an eyebrow, "I heard that!"

"It's the truth," Peyton chuckled as she sat up.

"Hey!" Brooke threw a sock at her friend.

- - - -

After two knocks, the front door opened and Lucas immediately spotted his girlfriend. A smiled graced his lips as he casually walked toward her.

"Hey!"

Peyton stopped pulling up the zipper to her leather jacket and turned in his direction, "Lucas? What are you doing here?"

"Your Dad offered pay for my suit rental," his eyes slowly travelled down the length of her body as he slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

"No. I mean what are you doing _here_—I thought you were heading home and…" her brow furrowed, "and why is he renting a suit for you?"

"I guess he didn't tell you that I'm coming to the banquet tomorrow," Lucas looked around, "Where is he anyway?"

"He, um," she scratched her temple, "I think he just went out to get the car from the garage."

"Just left?"

"Yeah, just now."

He raised an eyebrow, "As in just a few seconds ago?"

"Yes, Luke," Peyton chuckled, "He walked out the back door just before you came in."

"Okay," he responded nonchalantly.

"Oka—"

Her sentence cut off abruptly when his lips crashed into hers. He pulled her in close, forcing Peyton to arch her back with the intensity of their kiss. Slowly walking her back, Lucas pressed Peyton against the wall of the stairwell and she broke the kiss, gasping for air as his lips moved down to her neck.

"Luke, wait," she tried to warn him in a breathless plea.

But his soft lips continued to travel; starting from under her left earlobe, across her neck (which forced her to involuntarily tilt her head back to give him better access), until he reached the soft spot between her jaw and right ear. His warm, ragged breaths and the smell of his cologne held her in a trance as she struggled to regulate her own breathing.

"Luke," she tried again.

His lips momentarily left her neck as he whispered in her ear, "I can't wait to see you in a gorgeous dress tomorrow," he husked, "I just _know_ you're going to take my breath away. I know it."

"And if I don't?" Her fingers tightly grasped the lapels of his jacket, forgetting her previous worries.

Lucas shook his head and he smiled devilishly, "Not possible."

She opened her mouth to fire back but Lucas took full advantage. His tongue delved into her mouth, silencing her surprised whimper, but there were no complaints—none at all. Lost in their heated kiss, Lucas' hands slid down until his large palms cupped her bottom and she moaned into their kiss.

"Peyton!"

A female voice he'd never heard before broke through their haze and they separated.

"Who is that?" Lucas asked, his arms still around her.

"Peyton, you ready to go?" Brooke called as she started down the stairs.

She regretfully pushed Lucas away to put some distance between them. Lucas saw her nervous expression as she rubbed her reddened lips and he did the same just as a young brunette bounced down the last few steps. Coming face to face with the blue-eyed stranger, Brooke halted and blinked a few times before looking to her silent best friend.

"Hey," her eyes flickered back to the stranger for a second, "Who is this?"

"Um, he—he…"

"Lucas Scott," he held out his hand, introducing himself to the brunette.

"Uh, yeah, sorry," Peyton shook her head as she walked forward. Her hand landed on his forearm as he shook Brooke's hand. "Brooke this is Lucas, my homeschooling tutor. Lucas, this is my best friend Brooke Davis."

"Tutor?" Brooke tore her eyes away from the handsome young man, "_He_ is your tutor? What happened to that old hag?"

Peyton shrugged sheepishly, "She moved out of state. That's where Lucas comes in."

Lucas' lips formed a thin line with a brief nod, "Nice to finally meet you, Brooke. I've heard a lot about you."

"_Really_?" A perfectly shaped eyebrow shot up as Brooke's eyes gave him a once over, "Wish I could say the same."

Peyton knew Brooke was directing that last part to her for not mentioning him before. She couldn't find it in herself to care about breaking that friendship code of ethics, though. She was more worried about that slight inflection in Brooke's tone when speaking to Lucas. Peyton knew that tone very well, it was the same tone Brooke used when she would instruct her on the art of seduction through the webcam. Her heart clenched in her chest as a short silence loomed over them—she hoped to God Lucas was not reciprocating the look Brooke must be giving him right now.

"I don't really blame Peyton. Who wants to talk about their tutor anyway?" Lucas joked, Brooke giggled, and Peyton cringed inwardly. "You ladies heading out?"

"Yeah, we're having a Girl's Day," Peyton responded dryly.

"I'll grab my coat and we'll be on our way," Brooke nodded then smiled at Lucas, "Bye, Lucas."

Lucas' eyes left Peyton's somber expression to smile politely at Brooke, "Bye Brooke."

Once she turned her back to them, Lucas' smile disappeared as he bent down to kiss Peyton on the cheek. She flinched, slightly startled by his touch.

"She's not looking," he assured her, quickly glancing in Brooke's direction again before giving Peyton a light peck on the lips. A look of relief and her relaxed smile confirmed that he just did the right thing to dispel her worries—all of them.

"You need to behave," she whispered with a teasing smile.

He checked Brooke one more time before stealing another kiss from his girlfriend and whispered, "You too. Have fun, Babe."

His hand brushed across her abdomen as he walked away, her shirt rode up with the movement and she bit back a smile when his fingertips grazed the flesh above her jeans. Since they have been together, Lucas had never done anything as bold as this—touching her, kissing her, and whispering things in her ear when someone else was in the room. It instilled a thrilling sensation within her and she just wanted to squeal like some kind of teenage girl.

"Hey!" Brooke whistled to get Peyton's attention, "You coming?"

Peyton nodded mutely, a large grin still pulling at the corners of her lips as she followed Brooke out the front door. Brooke held out an elbow and Peyton, instinctively, looped her arm through. She didn't need for Brooke to alert her in anyway, that's just the way they were since the accident and even before—they haven't forgotten.

As they started walking down the sidewalk, Brooke's hold on Peyton's arm tightened as she leaned in close.

"So, Lucas, huh?"

"Yeah," Peyton smiled coyly, wondering if she was really that transparent about her feelings for that boy, "What about him?"

"Why didn't you tell me about him, P?!" Brooke playfully shoved her, unhooking their arms as they chuckled.

"There's nothing to tell, Brooke," Peyton lied as her chilled hands made their way into her leather jacket's pockets.

"Peyton, the boy is _hott_. I'd totally make-out with him." Brooke said matter-of-factly. She missed Peyton's crestfallen face. While the brunette continued to strut ahead, Peyton's steps slowed as Brooke's words sunk in.

- - - -

After a last minute phone call, Nathan dropped her off at Peyton's house Saturday morning. Haley held her bag in one hand and her dress's hanger in the other as she stood on the front porch. The front door pulled open and Haley was greeted by a dimple-faced brunette.

"You must be Haley," she cheerfully stated.

Haley nodded with a smile, "And you must be Brooke."

"In the flesh," Brooke posed dramatically before moving to one side, "Come in! I was just doing Peyton's hair."

"Thanks," Haley stepped in and looked around the foyer. This was the first time she'd entered Peyton's house—it was as gorgeous and spacious as the exterior led on to be. "Thanks for having me come over. When Lucas told me about this banquet thing I planned to come over and get ready with Peyton. I didn't know you were here so I hope I'm not intruding—"

Brooke shook her head as she waved Haley to follow her upstairs, "No, no. More girls the merrier! Plus, I hear from Peyton that it's just you, your husband, and his brother Lucas—boys are _no_ help when getting ready."

Haley laughed, "Tell me about it. To them every shoe is the same and everything looks right."

"Exactly," Brooke pushed through Peyton's door and Haley stood outside the bedroom, speechless.

She had never seen a room look so…_red_. There was an entire wall lined with shelved vinyl records—like a candy store for music junkies.

"Wow." Haley gawped.

Peyton's body turned toward Haley, "Hey!"

Haley shook out of her stupor and entered the room, "Hey, Peyton. Your room is so amazing!"

"Thanks," Peyton smiled sheepishly, "If you have things with you, you can set them down on the bed. The bathroom's across the hall, one door to the left—if you need to change."

"Thanks."

Haley, set her things on Peyton's bed as she watched Brooke tend to Peyton's unruly blonde locks. The brunette's tongue stuck out of the corner of her mouth in concentration, Peyton's curls were being stubborn but the young fashion-designer-to-be would not give up. She designed the perfect dress for her best friend and she needed the perfect hairstyle to go with it.

"Peyton tells me you're, like, her musical twin," Brooke speaks up, still in deep concentration. There's no animosity or jealousy in her tone, more curiosity about the new addition to the usual twosome.

"You could say that. We have the same taste and passion for it." Haley chuckles as she walks to Peyton's vinyl collection. Her eyes drifted to the two dresses hanging on Peyton's closet door. She made a beeline for the garments and her jaw dropped in awe, "Oh my god. Where did you get these?! They are gorgeous!"

Brooke looked back, a bobby pin trapped between her lips. Before she had a chance to remove the obstructing pin, Peyton spoke up to and answered for her.

"Brooke designed them," she gushed with a smile, "She's going to be a famous designer one day."

"You made these?" Haley gingerly touched the fabric, "Brooke, these are so beautiful! I'm going to look like the ugly duckling next to you two!"

"You are not!" Brooke rasped, "With those cheekbones and your lips? You have nothing to worry about."

"Thanks," Haley blushed.

Brooke rolled her eyes with a smile, "I swear, you two _cannot_ take a compliment!"

Peyton and Haley both laughed.

"This isn't working," Brooke huffed as she dropped her hands to her side in defeat. Peyton's brow creased apologetically—she knew her curls were a nightmare; she didn't have to see them to know that bit of information. Brooke's expression brightened with an idea, "I've got it. Let me go grab the curling iron from my suitcase!"

The brunette rushed out of the room and Peyton fully turned her body, facing Haley and listening to her walk back toward the bed.

"Haley," she started quietly, "Do you mind if I ask you a question?"

Haley looked up from her bag and saw the uncertainty in Peyton's features. Her brow creased in concern and she abandoned her things to give Peyton her full attention.

"Sure," she nodded, "Anything."

Peyton smiled appreciatively but still held back in hesitation. She picked at her fingernails and chewed on her lip—two obvious signs that she was nervous.

"How…" she took a deep breath, "H-How did you know you were…in love with Nathan?"

Haley looked away with a far-off look and she smiled, "Wow, I didn't expect that. Um…well, I guess it would have to be really early in our relationship. He asked me to sing for him and…and he was the person I ever sang to…"

"When you say early in the relationship…" Peyton pulled a knee up and hugged it close to her chest, "How early is early?"

"I, um, a month—two?" Haley eyed Peyton suspiciously.

"But you didn't feel like it was too soon? I-I mean…" Peyton smiled nervously, "How could you be so sure—?"

"Peyton," she cut her off, "What is this really about?"

"It was just a question…"

"I don't think it is."

"…I'm sorry if I got too personal…"

"Peyton…"

"…We can just drop it if you don't want to—"

"Peyton!" Haley raised her voice to stop Peyton's insistent rambling. The blonde shrunk back in her seat and her mouth formed a straight line. "Why are you asking these questions?"

"I-I just, I don't know. I just wanted to know a bit more about you and Nathan, I-I'm sorry."

Lies.

"Does this have anything to do with Lucas?" Haley crossed her arms over her chest as her eyes narrowed.

Peyton's mouth opened and closed but no words came out. Did Lucas tell her? How did she know? Had she known all along? Haley sat in the chair across from her. With a heavy sigh, she leaned forward and grasped Peyton's hand in her own.

"Listen, Peyton…" she looked at the young blonde with sympathy, "Lucas told me about the kiss."

She didn't say anything. Her tongue provided moisture to her dried lips and her heart raced in anticipation. What did Haley know?

"Sweetie, this…this isn't love," Haley said as delicately as possible. "I understand that you two have spent a lot of time together and he gives you attention you've never had before…"

Peyton swallowed hard to relieve her dry throat but her voice still came high pitched and raspy, "Haley—"

"It was just a kiss, Peyton."

She shook her head, "But—"

"_He _said it was just a kiss," Haley clarified.

Peyton's breath caught in her throat and her large green eyes welled up with warm tears. Her stomach was in knots and her heart twisted inside her chest.

"He said that?" Her voice was small and wavered.

Instead of answering, Haley rested her other hand on top of Peyton's. "I'm sorry," she said softly.

Peyton slowly sucked in a large amount of air as she pulled away. He lied to her. He said it wasn't just a kiss to him; he acted like their first few kisses meant more to him than _just_ a kiss. But this is Haley—his best friend—and he told her the exact opposite. He told her that it was just a kiss. He lied.

"I don't mean to be cruel, Peyton. I just don't want you to get your hopes up or for his actions to lead you on…"

"Haley…" she shook her head.

"I actually think this is just an infatuation—"

Peyton held a hand up and Haley stopped.

"Could you just…" she wiped away her tears and turned away, "Could you _please_ stop? I get it."

Haley watched Peyton take deep, shaky breaths. She was trying to control her emotions, bottle them up inside and hide them away from the world—just as she'd always done.

"Peyton…" Haley felt horrible. Not only was she looking out for her best friend, but she was convinced she'd just done the right thing. Lucas' kindness gave Peyton false pretenses—or so she thought.

Forcing a smile, Peyton waved her off, "I'm fine. Brooke doesn't know about any of this so I'd appreciate it if you'd keep this between us. Please?"

"Okay," she moved forward, squeezing Peyton's shoulder as she walked back toward the bed.

Brooke rushed back into the room, curler in hand. "Alright, I'm ready," she breathed excitedly.

"I'll go get dressed," Haley grabbed her dress from the bed but stopped short at the sound of Brooke's voice.

"Wait, wait," Brooke hooked a finger underneath the gold chain hanging from Peyton's neck, "We need to take this off. You're not wearing that."

Peyton's hand quickly shielded the precious gem, but Haley caught a glimpse of the emerald stone and her eyes widened.

"No, I'm keeping it Brooke," Peyton said firmly, "I'm not taking it off."

Brooke rolled her eyes, "Fine. You're going to look like a walking Christmas ornament, though. Who knew you'd be so festive!"

Peyton blinked a few times, "Me too. Let's just get this over with."

- - - -

"Did they say what time they'd be here?" Nathan asked as he surveyed the room full of strangers.

Lucas chuckled, "They'll be here soon. Relax."

He's been playing it cool. Truth is, the anticipation has been eating him alive since they'd arrived an hour ago. Every time a new arrival entered the banquet hall, he'd nearly snap his neck to catch a glimpse of his girlfriend. The girls hadn't arrived yet and both Scott men were becoming restless.

"I can't relax. I miss my wife and this suit is suffocating me," Nathan hissed through gritted teeth, "And I know you're dying to see your Goldilocks."

"Leave me and my Goldilocks _alone_," Lucas mumbled, grinning into his glass of water. Nathan bumped shoulders with his brother.

"What're you going to do without her for four weeks?"

His grin faded and he shrugged, "Spend time with Mom, Keith, and Lily…" he looked down at his glass, "You guys are coming down for Christmas and New Years, right?"

"Right," Nathan took a sip from his glass, "but what I meant was how are _you_ going to hold up without seeing _Peyton_? You've been on cloud nine ever since you two got it together."

"I have been," he smiled then shook his head, "I don't know Nate. I guess this'll test how strongly we feel about each other. The distance…lack of communication thanks to this big secret…"

"Ah, the secret. That's right," Nathan looked to his brother, "You guys sure you want to keep going with this charade for another four months?"

"Nate," Lucas exhaled through his nose. But Nathan's blue eyes were relentless and Lucas settled for the truth, "Honestly? I'm ready to just rip off the band-aid and tell Larry about us," he paused as one of the guests brushed passed them. Once they were alone, he continued, "I…I just want to _be_ withPeyton already, you know? No more hiding or sneaking around. I want to take her out on dates and hold her hand in public."

"Correct me if I'm wrong," Nathan turned to face Lucas, "But can't you already do all of that? Larry's never around, why don't you just do all that stuff?"

"Because he _has_ been around," Lucas shook his head in annoyance. Nathan's brow shot up in surprise and Lucas nodded, "Yeah, I thought the same thing. Me and my big stupid mouth—I told him to be a father to her and he listened. He's almost _always_ there when I show up."

"Wow."

"Yeah, I know."

"No," Nathan shook his head and pointed behind Lucas, "I mean _wow_!"

Lucas spun around and his heart instantly reacted. It thundered within his chest, threatening to burst as he watched them enter. They were, hands down, the most beautiful ladies in the room but only one took his breath away. Standing between Brooke and Haley, Peyton shrugged off her black, knee-length wool coat as the doorman assisted her in sliding it off her shoulders. His mouth went dry when she finally turned to face the hall.

Absent of her usual head of curls, her hair was perfectly styled into neat waves pinned low to the right for a loose, elegant bun. There were still traces of her curly roots and Lucas was eternally grateful for that. He'd never seen her wear make up, but her dark lashes, smoky eyelids, and subtle the red smoothed on her lips just made Peyton's bright green eyes even more striking at a distance. The corner of his lips twitched upward when he saw the emerald gem hanging from the gold chain around her long neck.

But that dress.

It was the perfect shade of red, matching the same tint that colored her cheeks every time he made her blush. He loved making her blush. If he told her how amazing that strapless, floor length dress fit each and every curve of her body and the things he'd like to do to her at that very moment—she'd blush, no doubt. He watched her hook an arm through one of Brooke's as they walked further into the banquet hall.

Lucas paid no attention to the brunette on Peyton's arm or even his own sister-in-law. They looked gorgeous, too—don't get me wrong. But how could he look away when he was watching the red fabric move fluidly against Peyton's hips with each step she took. If that visual didn't make his heart skip a beat, the moment his blue eyes registered one of those amazing long legs peek through a slit that ended just above the knee and a strappy gold high-heel shoe on her foot, Lucas' mouth hung open.

"Luke," Nathan jabbed an elbow into his rib. Lucas flinched, breaking from his trance, and cleared his throat. "If you stare any longer I think you would have started drooling."

"I think I already did," Lucas murmured, his eyes still following his smiling girlfriend as she greeted guests. "Good God, this is going to be a _long_ night."

Nathan chuckled, "Tell me about it, my wife looks pretty hott."

"Forget your wife!" Lucas shook his head, "Peyton, she's…she's—fuck, she's trying to _kill _me!"

"Kind of fitting considering she's the devil's daughter," Nathan's eyes indicated for Lucas to look back toward the entrance. Lucas' heart dropped. Larry handed his coat to the door man and the congregation applauded his arrival.

- - - -

"Hey, I'll catch up with you two later. I'm going to go find that husband of mine," Haley looked around.

"Well meet you guys in a few," Brooke reasoned and Haley nodded in agreement before walking away.

Peyton finally pulled away from one of her father's employees. She was thankful to follow Brooke away from the group of people fawning over their boss's daughter.

"I hate coming to these things," she growled lowly, clinging to Brooke for dear life, "They all gush about me like they know me. Every year, _every year_, I'm forced into some dress and heels so they can talk about how beautiful Larry Sawyer's daughter is. It's all a joke."

"Woah, some one is a little pissy!" Brooke pulled her toward a vacant spot by the bar, "But for the record, _I _am here this year and you look _absolutely _beautiful. With or without the B. Davis original," her hazel-grays flickered down to the red dress, "Preferably _with_."

"I'm glad to have you here with me, Brooke. You make it all a little more tolerable."

"Yeah, I've just got to find a way to repel all these ass-kissers all night," she said dryly as she looked around the room.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything," a deep voice came from behind them. Both girls went rigid as they recognized his voice, "I've decided to crash the party."

- - - -

He couldn't repress the grin tugging at his lips as he approached her. Every time he came anywhere near her, Brooke or some other stranger would sweep her into another conversation. She was finally standing alone, arms crossed over her chest and chewing on her bottom lip.

Sliding an arm on the slick bar behind her, he leaned in close and whispered in her ear, "Hey beautiful."

Peyton jumped, her shoulder bumping into his chin so that he nearly bit his tongue. She quickly recovered, realizing who was wincing in pain.

"Oh my god, Lucas, I'm so sorry! Are you okay?!" She touched his shoulder.

He rubbed his jaw and chuckled, "Yeah, I'm fine but I should start wearing a helmet around you if this is going to be a regular thing."

"Sorry," she gave him an apologetic smile.

"Don't worry about it," his tone low and husky, borderline verbal seduction.

He didn't expect her to shift her weight away from him or for her to behave so blatantly uninterested. Peyton went from having her arms crossed to practically hugging her body within seconds. If this was a part of the charade, she was playing very well, so well that it worried him a bit.

"Peyt," he spoke seriously, his brow furrowed in concern, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she mumbled, "I just don't want to be here anymore, that's all."

He didn't believe her. He knew when she was lying.

"There's more to it than that, Peyton. Tell me what's really wrong."

"Stop it," she snapped and he couldn't understand why, "This isn't something you can try to analyze as something more than what it really is. So stop it, okay?!"

It was an intentional double jab. The first implying that he _still_ didn't know her and he never will. The second indirectly referenced the meaning behind their first kiss, which he 'lied' about—but he didn't know that. Of course he didn't know, sometimes he was blinder than she was and that thought infuriated her.

Lucas looked around the room, making sure no one paid them any attention as he stepped in front of her, trying to read the look in her eyes.

"Okay, seriously," she turned away, knowing he was trying to read her but he was persistent, "Did I do something wrong? Was it something I said?"

"Lucas…"

"Who was that guy you were talking to earlier?" He cut her off.

That was the real question that had been plaguing his mind. He watched the stranger approach the two girls and their discomfort—especially his girlfriend's. Her sudden attention to Lucas' question and her worried expression gave him an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Y-You saw him?" She asked quietly.

"Peyton, who is he?" Lucas asked again. Brooke rushed toward them, placing a hand on Peyton's arm to interrupt their conversation.

"You need to come with me," she rasped and Peyton shook her head.

"Woah, hang on a minute. What's going on?" Lucas stepped closer on full concerned-boyfriend-alert.

Brooke ignored him and squeezed into the space between the two blondes.

She spoke in an urgent, cryptic tone, "He's not going to leave until you go talk to him."

Peyton swallowed hard and Lucas' defenses only heightened when she reluctantly agreed to go with Brooke. She followed Brooke's pull and he instinctively reached for her wrist.

"Peyton, wait…"

She took a step back in hesitation but easily slipped her smaller hand out from his weak grasp, "It's alright. I'll be right back."

"I'll come with," he insisted.

"Lucas!" Larry called, waving him over.

Lucas looked back, his heart beating a mile a minute. He couldn't blow off Larry, how would they explain that? But he didn't want to let Peyton go when that gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach told him something was wrong.

"Peyton."

"Go," she gently pushed him in the other direction and he wished she didn't. "I'll be fine. He's calling you."

He looked up to Brooke's impatient stare then back to see Peyton giving him a reassuring smile. She was smiling and that was almost enough to relieve his worries—_almost_.

"Alright," he conceded softly, "Okay."

As he took a step back, Brooke finally pulled Peyton away and he watched her go. He watched them approach the dark-haired man, the annoyed expression on Brooke's face, and Peyton's nervous fidgeting. The man smiled at their arrival, his lips moved to say something and Peyton gave him a small smile that quickly faded.

"Lucas," Larry broke through Lucas' curiosity. He waved him over once more, "Come, I want you to meet some people."

With one last glance in her direction, Lucas finally gave in and joined Larry's conversation with his colleagues.

- - - -

"You're broodier than usual," Haley sidled up next to Lucas. He paid no attention to her presence; his eyes were fixated on something in the distance and her comment didn't even register. She shoved his elbow, nearly knocking it off the bar top. When he finally turned to her, she nodded toward the glass in his hand, "What're you drinking?"

"Nothing," his voice was deeper and scratchier than usual.

She saw how his fingers held onto the glass tightly and her brow furrowed. Before he could react, Haley snatched up his glass and she smelled its contents, her eyes widened in horror.

"You're _drinking_?!" She hissed, pulling the glass further out of his reach when he reached for it. "Lucas, how did you even get this?!"

"Easy. Just reach over the counter when the bartender's not looking."

"Why the hell are you drinking anyway?!"

His eyes momentarily flickered back to his smiling girlfriend. She was smiling and the guy making her smile wasn't him. It was _that_ guy. They were still talking and Peyton suddenly became comfortable after five minutes. She was laughing, smiling, and talking to him like it was nothing. Something about that guy didn't sit well with Lucas. He didn't want _him_ to look at Peyton like he knew her—he didn't want him to look at her at all, actually.

"_Lucas_!" Haley tugged at his arm.

"What, Haley, what?!" He snapped, his anger and frustrations finally coming through.

She reared back at his outburst and held up a hand defensively, "Okay, I know it's not my business or anything but if this has anything to do with what I said to Peyton—"

That got his attention.

"You said something to Peyton?" He cut her off, "What did you say to her?"

"You have to understand where I'm coming from, Lucas. I just told her the truth!"

"Truth? What truth? What did you say?!"

"I'm going to get Nathan and we're taking you home. You're drunk and—"

"I'm not drunk! Just—" Lucas pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head with a chuckle, "You know what, forget it. You're right."

Haley's expression softened, "I am?"

"Yeah," he snatched his drink back, "It's _not_ your business. _So stay out of it_."

Her face dropped as he turned and walked away. Brooke stood alone at a safe distance, keeping a keen eye on her best friend and the man holding a conversation. She didn't even notice Lucas standing next to her.

"So, who is he?" He asked.

Brooke casually scanned the room, "Who is who?"

"You know who I'm talking about. _Him_!" Lucas pointed at the man talking to Peyton.

She quickly slapped his hand back down and glared at him.

"Don't point. _He's_ not blind and he'll know we're watching them," her eyes narrowed, "Why _are_ you watching them?"

"Why are you?" He countered.

"Because he's my stupid cousin and I'm looking out for my best friend. What's your excuse?"

"You're cousin?" He looked up to watch them, ignoring Brooke's question. "Why do you have to watch out for Peyton and your cousin?"

Brooke sighed heavily as she turned to fully face Lucas.

"Alright, just don't say anything, but Jake and Peyton had this _thing_ a while back…"

Lucas posture went rigid as he watched how close _he_ was standing next to her.

"…Well, actually, Peyton always had this kiddy-crush on him but he never really noticed since he's four years older than us…"

Peyton laughed at something that Jake person said and _he_ watched her with a smile on his face.

"…Anyway. Turns out he noticed her all along. So when Peyton and I were fourteen, I started playing cupid…"

Brooke's words and the effects of the alcohol swirled in Lucas' head as he watched Jake lean in and whisper something in Peyton's ear.

"…When Larry would fall asleep, I'd sneak her out and we'd go to Jake's. Those two were like magnets, I swear. It was really sweet actually. He was so attentive to her. He was her first—her _only_ kiss, actually…"

Jake placed a hand on the small of her back as he continued to whisper. Lucas' jaw hardened and his grip on the glass tightened. _He_ wasn't supposed to touch her, only he can touch her like that.

"So what happened?" Lucas asked, his eyes still focused on them, "Between them, what happened?"

Brooke looked over her shoulder, then back to Lucas and shrugged half-heartedly.

"I had to move to California and they kept seeing each other, I guess. But then he graduated and took off on some tour to kick of his music career without saying goodbye to her. They were never really together officially but it still kind of broke her heart," she said dryly. Her own cousin broke her best friend's heart, of course she was angry. "Now he's here for I don't know what."

Looking at them now and hearing about their history—he felt like he was going to be sick.

"And Peyton? What about her?"

"Peyton? I don't…" Brooke trailed off when she saw the intense look in Lucas' eye. He wasn't even looking at her; he was looking over her shoulder at _them_. Her eyes narrowed as she spoke, "Lucas, why are you so concerned about this? Do you…do you like her?"

His eyes met with Brooke's and she finally saw his anguish, the pain in his eyes and the creases in his forehead. He didn't say anything, not one word, but he didn't need to. Brooke could see it clearly in his eyes and she wondered why she didn't see any of it sooner.

"You…" Lucas looked away as she spoke. He looked away to look at _them_ and _he _still had his hand there, on his spot. "Are you in _love _with Peyton?"

"Where's Larry?" He dodged her question.

"He went back to the house to upload a Powerpoint that he forgot. Lucas, what—"

Lucas downed the rest of his drink and handed the glass to Brooke, "Hold this."

She grasped the glass and blinked a few times, a perplexed look on her face as he brushed pass her. Lucas approached the two, not caring that he'd just interrupted their conversation or what ever joke they were laughing about.

"Hey guys," He cut in with a grin. Peyton straightened but didn't offer an introduction. "Well, are you not going to introduce us Peyton?"

"Oh, right," she shook her head with a smile, "Lucas, this is Brooke's cousin Jake. Jake this is—"

"Lucas Scott," he cut her off, holding out his hand. He didn't want to hear her introduce him as her tutor, not to _him_ at least. Jake shook his hand.

"Nice to meet you," Jake smiled.

Lucas hated his stupid smile.

He also hated that, under any other circumstances, Jake seemed like he could be a likeable guy. But the circumstances were not different. This guy had kissed _his_ girl. This guy hurt her and broke her heart. He has been making her laugh and he's touched her in the last fifteen minutes when she just brushed off her own boyfriend. The circumstances were not different and he hated this guy.

"Mind if I borrow Peyton for a second?" Lucas asked politely.

"Lucas, just give me a sec," Peyton smiled sweetly.

"I just want to dance," Lucas' brow furrowed as he looked at Jake, "You don't mind, do you?"

She shook her head very seriously, "I don't dance."

"She's right, man. Peyton does _not_ dance," Jake chuckled as he placed a hand on the bare skin between her shoulder blades, "She doesn't know how to dance."

Lucas' nostrils flared and his jaw hardened. He placed a hand on her lower back and cupped her elbow to gently guide her away from Jake's touch.

"Good thing I'm her tutor then," Lucas said, the irritation evident in his tone. Although Jake missed it, Peyton didn't. "I'll teach her."

He led her to the dance floor without another word. It was empty except for a few scattered couples dancing to the instrumentals. With her vibrant red dress and his young features in a sea of forty-something year olds, Lucas and Peyton undoubtedly stood out in the small crowd. Despite the nervous crease between her eyebrows, Lucas took her hand in his in preparation.

"Lucas," she breathed softly in embarrassment.

"Just dance with me," he murmured, busying himself with adjusting the bottom of her dress so she wouldn't trip over its length. "It's easy."

"Luke, _please_, people are going to _watch_," her voice cracked, on the verge of tears.

He took her other hand and placed it on his shoulder before bringing her forward and whispering lowly, "Then let them."

"I-I don't know _how _to dance!" She whispered desperately, "Please, Lucas. I—"

"Just follow my lead."

They took it slow as she stumbled through her first steps. He quietly whispered instructions in her ear—to listen and move to the music, that he'd take care of the rest. Peyton relaxed, closing her eyes and wrapping her arm tightly around his shoulder as she listened and he guided her. Their movements became fluid and graceful as they swayed elegantly on the dance floor.

Her eyes were still closed when she softly spoke, "They're all watching."

He looked around discretely. She was right. The majority of the guests were watching them; Larry's daughter was dancing with some boy they'd just met. He didn't care. And looking down at her peaceful expression, something told him that she didn't really care either. But Lucas caught a glimpse of someone else watching them and his temper flared once more.

"So that's him, huh?"

She opened her eyes and frowned, "What?"

"Jake. He's the guy you threw in my face when you said what happened between us was _just _a kiss."

"What? How did you—?" Peyton rubbed her lips together before continuing, "Yes, alright. Jake and I had feelings for each other but we were kids. It's in the past."

"Really? Ha." he laughed dryly, "Why is he here? Did he come back for you?"

"Lucas…"

"Did you love him?" His question was firm as he searched her face.

"I was _fourteen_ Lucas!" She hissed.

"And what about now?"

"How can you even ask me that?!"

"How could you not tell me about him?!" he shot back, "What am I suppose to think when you've kept this from me?! If the past is in the past then why did you keep this from me and why is he here _now_?! Was I just some place holder until he got back?!"

"I can't believe you're doing this," she murmured.

"You can't—? How can—" he took a deep breath to calm his temper, "All I want is the truth Peyton."

Her head turned to his, and for a moment there was no air in his lungs and everything stopped. For the very first time her green eyes somehow focused on his as if she could see him.

"Well isn't that a bitch because that's all I've wanted, too!" She spat as tears formed in her eyes.

Lucas, still lost in her eyes, loosened his grip. She took the opportunity to slip out of this hold and start to walk away. She didn't know where she was trying to go but anywhere away from him was good enough. As soon as she pulled out of his grasp, Lucas' brow furrowed and he caught her by the elbow. Guiding them away from the dance floor, Lucas led her to a dimly lit passageway where they could talk in private.

"What are you talking about? When have I ever kept anything from you?!"

"Try from the very fucking beginning!" she angrily wiped at the tears barely trickling down her bottom lids.

"I never lied to you Peyton!"

"Lie number two, keep going!"

"Tell me what I did!"

"She told me! Haley told me what you said, you ass!" She cried, shoving him.

"Peyton—"

"You're fucking sick you know that?!" She growled and he reared back, "All the shit you've said, all the lies—_everything_—it was all just so you could _fuck_ me!"

Lucas suddenly felt nauseous. How could she say that? He looked around until he found what he was searching for. Taking her by the arm, he pulled Peyton into a room at the end of the hall.

- - - -

After hitting save, Larry pocketed his flash drive. Just when he was ready to close the laptop, a popup appeared on the lower right-hand corner of his screen, signifying an unsent mail document.

Ever since he learned about Peyton's typing exercises and her attempts to email Brooke, Larry enthusiastically supported her. He made emailing possible by lending Peyton his email address, that way she could type the emails and he'd simply address them to Brooke when he found them in his 'Outbox'.

This email, however, already had an outgoing email address.

"LScott3," Larry read out loud and his brow furrowed at the subject title.

_Merry Christmas_ it read.

Why was Peyton addressing an email to Lucas? And why did it have a video attachment?

Peyton always gave him the 'go ahead' to proof read her emails. She said she had nothing to hide, he figured this was no different as he double clicked the file.

The video loaded and an image of his daughter and Lucas smiling brought a smile to Larry's face. His smile only grew upon hearing their playful laughter and banter—he never knew they got along so well.

But he also never noticed Lucas looking at his daughter like that either. Or seen him touch her the way he just did.

Why was she wearing that shirt? _Whose _shirt was that? Why was she even sitting on his lap?

Larry swallowed hard as he listened to his daughter speak.

"_I'll still be here, waiting for you."_

He then noticed Lucas' hand on his daughter's bare thigh and the other gripping her hip tightly. A lump formed in his throat and he shook his head. Lucas said something that didn't even register in his head. All he could do was watch as that boy put his lips on his little girl's neck and he snapped the laptop shut—he couldn't watch anymore.

Larry put a hand over his mouth as the bile churned and threatened to come up. His whole body began to shake as tears formed in his eyes. He had no idea what he'd just seen, but he had an idea and those thoughts did nothing to settle his stomach.

"Oh god," he breathed heavily, throwing his head into shaken hands.

- - - -

"Let me go!" Peyton thrashed as Lucas shut the door behind them.

"Not until you tell me what's going on!" Lucas' voice rose, "Peyton, you know you mean more to me that that! How can you say that?!"

"You lied!" She sobbed, "You told Haley that it was just a kiss when you told _me _that those kisses meant more! What am I suppose to believe?!"

"I didn't mean it like that," he held her shoudlers desperately.

"But did you say it?"

He couldn't lie, he never lied to her.

"Yes," he answered softly and her face crumpled in distress, "But _only_ because I didn't know what this meant and I was in denial of my own feelings at the time. Peyton, you _have_ to believe me."

She shook her head and pulled away, "No. You know what? This, this isn't going to work out, Lucas."

"What?!" he shrieked.

"It's better this way…"

"No it's not!"

"…when you leave for break it'll make this easier on us…"

"Peyton, stop."

"…really, Luke. It was great but it's not going to work—"

"Stop!" He shouted, his face now red with anger.

"Luke…"

"I said stop!" He pulled at his tie, loosening it as he paced the room, "What is this, Peyton? Why are you doing this? Is it because of Jake? Do you want to be with him?"

"No!" Her voice cracked.

"Then what?!" He stopped pacing to look at her, "Why are you trying to push me away? I know you, Peyton, and I know that whatever Haley told you can't be it, so tell me what's really wrong!"

"You don't. No, you don't know me," she mumbled, turning her back to him.

"Stop doing that!" He ground his teeth, "Just answer the damn question! Why don't you want to be with me?! Just fucking tell me!"

"I _do_ want to be with you, but _you_ don't _have _tobe!" She cried, leaving him almost speechless.

"W-what?" he asked softly.

Peyton buried her face in her hands and sobbed. She heard him take a step toward her and she quickly recovered.

"Don't!" She ordered firmly.

"Peyton…"

"You _don't _have to be with me, Lucas. You shouldn't feel obligated to me when you deserve so much more," he made a sound as if to protest but she held a hand up, stopping him so she could continue, "You do. You deserve so, _so_ much more Lucas."

Her voice came thick with emotion as the tears formed a trail over her flushed cheeks. Lucas could only look at her and shake his head as she continued.

"You know I'm right Lucas. You should have _everything_ and I can't give you any of it. You should be with someone like Brooke, someone who can _look_ _at_ you and say you look handsome today or that you're hott," a heavy sob interrupted and Lucas felt the tears welling up in his eyes, "Y-You should have g-girl that can look you in the eye when s-she says 'I l-love you' or 'I do' on your w-wedding day," she hiccoughed, "God, Luke, you should be with s-someone that'll be a good wife to you and an amazing m-mother to your chil-children! Not someone like m-me, s-someone you have to take care of and, and can't even _look_ at you!"

She finally gave into her emotions as she buried her face in her hands and cried.

Lucas' heart clenched and raced all at the same time. She just spoke about marriage and children filled him with such powerful hope and longing—but she spoke about him having those things with someone else, some one other than her.

A future without Peyton didn't even exist.

"No," he breathed blinking away his tears. Peyton held a hand to her chest as she struggled to breathe. Convinced that she didn't hear him, Lucas repeated himself, "_No_."

"Lucas, please…"

"No, Peyton, that's not possible."

"_Why?!_"

"Because I love you, don't you get it?!" He yelled, "I _love_ you, Peyton!"

Her mouth fell open but it was as if no amount of oxygen could fill her lungs.

_He loves her_.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N**: _(Insert some excuse none of you really want to hear in here.) Sorry about that guys. Hope this makes up for the long wait! _

_And since there was such a long wait, I decided to add a good recap over the important parts, just to help refresh your memories. Thank you all SO much for reading and reviewing. They make my day!_

_Did I mention that I changed the rating? Because I did. Mature content, people. Enjoy!!  
_

* * *

**Previously:**

**(**_"I can't go back to pretending. Not after last night," her smile faltered slightly, "We…we'll just wait to tell him about us. When I'm eighteen and you don't have to be my tutor anymore, we'll tell him that we're interested in still seeing each other beyond that. We'll tell him in the spring."  
"Spring?" His brow shot up, "You want us to hide this until __spring?"  
"You don't know my dad, Lucas. He __won't understand!"  
"Then we'll make him understand or he'll just have to deal with it!"  
"And what if he doesn't?!" She whispered harshly. "Not only would he fire you but he can report you to the __university! What happens then?!"_**)**

**(**_"Lucas…" she trailed off, her fingers brushing against the dangling emerald around her neck. Lucas fastened the clasp behind her neck and watched the gold chain glisten against her skin.  
He wrapped his around her, pulling her back against his chest, "Since I won't get to see you for Christmas, and today is our one month anniversary, I thought I'd get you a little something."**)**_

__**(**_"Luke," Peyton whimpered as she dropped her head back to his shoulder. She was close and Lucas had to bite back a moan—he was so turned on as he watched what he was doing to her. "Lucas the camera."  
He shook his head and husked in her ear, "Leave it. You have no idea how beautiful you look right now."_**)**

**(**_Peyton's hand quickly shielded the precious gem, but Haley caught a glimpse of the emerald stone and her eyes widened.  
"No, I'm keeping it Brooke," Peyton said firmly, "I'm not taking it off."_**)**

**(**_Brooke sighed heavily as she turned to fully face Lucas. "Alright, just don't say anything, but Jake and Peyton had this thing a while back…"_**)**

**(**_He then noticed Lucas' hand on his daughter's bare thigh and the other gripping her hip tightly. A lump formed in his throat and he shook his head. Lucas said something that didn't even register in his head. All he could do was watch as that boy put his lips on his little girl's neck and he snapped the laptop shut—he couldn't watch anymore._**)**

**(**_"You know I'm right Lucas. You should have __everything_ and I can't give you any of it. You should be with someone like Brooke, someone who can _look_ _at_ you and say you look handsome today or that you're hott," a heavy sob interrupted and Lucas felt the tears welling up in his eyes, "Y-You should have g-girl that can look you in the eye when s-she says 'I l-love you' or 'I do' on your w-wedding day," she hiccoughed, "God, Luke, you should be with s-someone that'll be a good wife to you and an amazing m-mother to your chil-children! Not someone like m-me, s-someone you have to take care of and, and can't even _look_ at you!"**)**

**(**_"Lucas, please…"  
"No, Peyton, that's not possible."  
"__Why?!"  
"Because I love you, don't you get it?!" He yelled, "I __love you, Peyton!"_**)**

**

* * *

  
**

**Chapter 9**

"Don't say that," she whispered softly.

His face fell as she shook her head and repeated those words over again. Her hand grasped thin air in search of an object—_any_ object—to help stabilize her weak knees. With one hand still placed over her racing heart, Peyton's other hand finally found the smooth surface of the conference table at the center of the dimly lit room and her fingers clamped down on its polished edge.

_Don't say that._ She continued to mumble under her breath.

Lucas took a tentative step toward her. He felt light, slightly dizzy, and something told him it had nothing to do with alcohol in his system. It was the words that he'd finally confessed after so many weeks of keeping them in. Those three words, that emotion he felt—he felt it for _her_, the very same girl currently telling him _not_ to say those words.

But he didn't care. He finally said it, and he _meant_ it.

"I love you, Peyton," he took another step and she squeezed her eyes shut until the corners of her eyelids creased, "I've been falling in love with you for some time now, but now," he now stood so close that he could see her visibly shiver with his words, "—_Now_, I _know_ I love you."

"Don't do that," a soft sniffle accompanied her quiet request.

He cupped her elbow, "But I do, Peyton, I—"

"Don't lie to me!" She shouted, shrugging off his touch as her head pulsed with anger and her chest constricted with fear.

"I never lied to you!" His shout matched hers as he wrapped his fingers around her upper arm and turned her to face him. When she pushed, he held on and grasped her other arm to keep her from turning away.

She was much smaller than him and he was much stronger, but those tiny hands felt like two bulldozers pushing against his chest. This wasn't how he imagined it. They were supposed to be blissfully happy and the moment was supposed to be romantic as he proclaimed his love for her. She was supposed to smile and kiss him or say it back—say _anything_ other than don't. He was supposed to hold her and whisper sweet things in her ear as they made love, just so he could show her exactly what he felt.

_This_ was not how it was suppose to be.

She shook her head, "Stop."

"I _never_ lied to you, Peyton," he repeated firmly, "Yes, I told Haley it was just a kiss. I was afraid and I thought that was what you wanted. But I never lied to you!"

"Stop it, Luke. Stop," her weak voice cracked as she pushed against him.

"_No_," he pulled her closer, "You can push me all you want but I'm not going anywhere."

The tension in her muscles gradually loosened and a lump formed in her throat. Every comeback and argument she had prepared faded away, the words caught in the tight confines of her throat. She was afraid and nothing made sense. Everything she had ever wanted felt as if it was slipping away but Lucas was refusing to let go. He refused to let _her_ go.

"But you deserve so much more—"

"No," he cut her off and closed any remaining distance between them as her resistance weakened, "Don't take this away from me. I don't want your excuses, Peyton, because I don't care about any of that stuff."

"You should!"

"But I _don't_," he held her impossibly close, "And I don't want any of those things if I can't have them with _you_. I'm telling you I love you because I do. I want to be with you and I love you, Peyton."

As she exhaled heavily and her eyelids fluttered shut, letting his words wash over her and for rationality to set in. Taking the open opportunity, Lucas lightly dragged his right hand down her left temple and his knuckles brushed against the smooth, taut skin of her cheekbone. Then she jerked her head away from his touch.

"Maybe you don't," she mumbled, shifting her weight to escape him. Lucas, however, anticipated the move and his hand instinctively rested against her hip to bring her back.

"I loveyou," he repeated with conviction. "And you know I do."

Peyton blinked rapidly as she tried pulling away, "I was fine, Lucas. I was _perfectly_ fine without you. I accepted it all and you—you can't just come into my life, changing everything and telling me you love me and, and—you just can't!"

Lucas growled, pulling her up to full height and bowing his head to whisper in her ear, "You made me love you, Peyton. Icould have buried my feelings if that's what you wanted. But you made me love you." He watched her bottom lip quiver. "_You_."

"I, I'm just…I'm a fucked up girl, Luke." She whimpered, "There's nothing special about me. How can you love someone like me?"

How can she believe there was nothing special about her? _How can he _not _love her?_

Peyton felt his hands trail down her bare arms, causing every hair to rise with the sensation as he whispered gruffly in her ear, "Because everything about you is beautiful."

Her lips parted but the words died when he shifted, bringing their bodies even closer than before—as if they weren't close enough before. His fingertips brushed past her elbow and traced invisible lines on her forearm.

"Because I love how you need me to hold your hand when we're driving in the car," the tips of his fingers tickled the inside of her wrist and he watched as she started to let her guard down, "and how yours fit perfectly in mine," his palm slid over the back of her hand, his fingers teasing hers, "and how you love to hold hands because yours are always cold and you need mine to warm them up."

He grinned when her fingers twitched and reached for his touch. Peyton's smaller hand effortlessly slipped into his, their fingers laced and held a strong grip that filled him with confidence.

"So I'm a pretty girl with cold hands and a phobia." She raised her eyebrows. "That doesn't mean you love me."

Lucas pulled back to see her lame attempt to hide a smile. Her lips screwed to one side, slightly puckered and teeth chewing the inside corner of her bottom lip. It was really cute, actually, but he'd never tell her that or she'd stop. He didn't want her to stop.

He wanted to see that smile.

"I love that you think that smart mouth of yours is going to send me running for the hills," he turned his head, his nose rubbing her temple as he spoke directly into the shell of her ear, "but it only makes me want you more."

Peyton leaned closer to his body to hide her smile in the collar of his white dress shirt. Lucas knew she was smiling—she taught him how feel things, to sense something without really seeing it. He felt it now as one of his hand cupped the back of her head and the other, still holding hers tightly, wrapped around her back to pull their bodies flush against each other. Shutting his eyes with a sigh, Lucas basked in the added warmth and the perfect curves of her body molded flawlessly to his.

"That's lust, an infatuation." She mumbled into his shirt as he walked her backwards. "You don't want that."

"Then I'll tell you how much I hate that you think you're not enough for me," his voice was slightly pained as her back pressed against the wall behind her, "I don't need someone to look me in the eye and tell me I look handsome; that doesn't matter to me. All I want is you," his fingers caressed the slight contours of her cheekbones and jaw. "I'd love to stand at the altar with you as my bride-to-be, hearing you say 'I do' and knowing that you love me because I'd be able to _feel _it. I don't have to see it. You taught me that."

Tears filled in her eyes and her free hand gripped the lapels of his suit jacket. Their hands lifted as Lucas' full, soft lips kissed the sensitive skin of her inner left wrist. He pressed their joined hands on the wall beside her head, his pinning hers as his other hand dropped to her hip.

"Still sound like lust to you?" He whispered hoarsely. She couldn't speak, all she could do was shake her head, "Know what else I love?"

Her eyes were hooded as he shifted in front of her, bringing his lips close to her ear once again. Peyton slowly shook her head again, her voice seemed to have lost all function.

"I love that I know where all four of your freckles are," his voice dropped to a low rumble.

The grasp on both his hand and jacket tightened when the hand on her hip swiftly moved through the slit of her dress, hitching the material high enough so that he could grasp her upper thigh in his large palm. His thumb rubbed circles on her inner thigh, concentrating on one spot in particular—a spot dangerously close to her panty line.

"This one is my favorite," he breathed, his words sounded strangled as Peyton involuntarily angled her leg to better accommodate his ministrations. Their foreheads touched so he could see her face, lips parted and eyes closed. "Has _he_ ever touched you like this? Does he know about this freckle?"

"No," she rasped, brushing the tip of her nose with his, "Just…just you."

"Good," he said, more to himself than to Peyton. His lips met hers, brushing softly in a series of chaste kisses as Peyton continued to fall under his trance.

- - - -

Elbows on his knees, hands clasped and pressed to his clamped lips, Larry's brown eyes stared at the closed laptop in front of him like it had a terminal illness. His mind reeled with thousands of questions, with a handful of possible answers he dreaded to hear, and every worst case scenario of the outcome.

The video cut off when the laptop closed, in truth he really had no idea what else had been recorded but Larry had a few guesses. He didn't need to see the rest—his stomach and temper couldn't handle much more.

A hand dropped as the other rubbed the light stubble lining his jaw and chin. He suddenly felt old, much older than his thirty-nine years of age, and he felt ignorant of everything around him.

He felt like a fool.

A mockery to this sick joke.

Pulling himself up, Larry exited the study and ascended the stairs, taking them two at a time. He approached Peyton's door with purpose, his nostrils flaring as he wrapped his fingers around the cold metal of the doorknob.

He paused.

His eyes dulled and his rigid posture slacked with a sigh. He couldn't do that. He couldn't barge into her room—her sanctuary. She treated that bedroom like it was a vital piece of her, a sacred temple that held the very essence of her being. Larry respected that. Always. He couldn't violate that now, not ever.

Facing away from the door, Larry closed his eyes and his back fell against the wooden surface with a deep sigh. His jaw clenched and unclenched, his teeth grinding painfully. It was a habit to settle his temper and Anna used to scold him every time he did it, telling him that he was going to ruin his perfect teeth. His brown eyes suddenly snapped open and narrowed to thin slits.

The guest bedroom.

Like an Olympic swimmer, Peyton's door worked as his leverage as Larry's foot kicked off and propelled his body forward. There was no hesitation in bursting through the door across the hall. This had become Brooke's bedroom during her visit, but that didn't stop Larry.

_He_ had spent the night in this very room. _He_ spent many nights there. How could he have been so _careless_? Larry's jaw tightened at the thought.

His eyes searched frantically as if an arrow or a sign would magically appear to point him in the right direction. He didn't know what he was looking for exactly, but he searched none the less.

In two purposeful steps, Larry tore the covers off the bed and tossed them to the floor. His breaths came in harsh, ragged puffs and his face burned red with determination. The night stands on either side of the bed were his next target. Violently throwing the top drawer open, Larry rummaged through the useless pens and loose papers—things Lucas had left over the past few months.

He slammed the drawer shut and yanked the bottom one open. The notebooks were pushed aside and Larry froze, his face instantly paled.

- - - -

"Do you know why I gave you that necklace?" He asked gruffly against her neck. Peyton swallowed thickly as his thumb edged closer to where she wanted him to touch her.

"My eyes," she managed to choke out and he grinned. The day he gave her the necklace he told her that the dangling emerald matched the color of her eyes perfectly.

"Not exactly," Lucas muttered.

He pressed firm kisses down the column of her throat until he reached the gem that rested against her skin. His eyes watched how the emerald sparkled then slowly travelled down to the top of that dress. The red material strained against the rise and fall of her chest with each breath she took. Darkened blue eyes lifted to her hooded green ones, ones that held questions and fear as well as the same deep burning desire he felt.

"My grandmother gave it to me four years ago, before she died. It was her favorite necklace from my grandpa." he started as he reached for the clip in her hair.

"Luke," she cooed.

He silenced her with a gentle kiss, his fingers successfully pulled the clip away and her blonde hair fell over her shoulders. Peyton heard his poorly stifled groan of arousal and her eyes fell closed when he dragged his fingers through the waves Brooke had expertly styled.

"She wanted me to give that necklace to the first girl I gave my heart to," Lucas tilted her chin up as she opened her eyes—her green irises shining, elated beyond comprehension. "It's you, Peyt. I'm giving you my heart because I love you."

He kissed her reddened cheek as her fingers gripped the lapels of his jacket. His calloused palm moved from her inner thigh to the fleshy posterior juncture just below the curve of her ass.

"I can't control it, Peyton. This feeling…it's so intense and overwhelming, but I love you."

The hand cupping the back of her bare thigh traveled lower, reaching for the back of her knee. Peyton willingly lifted her leg and Lucas hitched it over his hip, his fingers smoothing over the softest skin he'd ever touched as his hand moved back up. He stepped into the newly opened space, pressing their hips impossibly close, and Peyton's lips parted with a breathy sigh. The growing bulge in his pants was evident, she could feel it against the apex of her own desire.

"I mean it," he whispered in her ear.

"I believe you," she finally relented.

His hips rocked against her, causing a friction he so desperately needed. A muffled groan passed between the two as his head dropped to her shoulder.

"God, I want you, Peyt," he rocked again, this time with more pressure, and he reveled in the way her head fell back with a moan. "I need you so bad. You're so beautiful," he kissed the juncture of her neck and shoulder and mumbled, "So, so beautiful, Baby. I need you so bad."

"I know."

Lucas groaned when his fingers brushed against something and his brow furrowed.

"Are these new?" He panted. His fingers traced the lacy material shielding her most intimate parts. All she could do was smile and Lucas' eyes closed with another groan.

"Do you like them?" She asked innocently.

That was almost an invitation. And he gladly took it.

Gathering the silky material in his hand, Lucas lifted the dress until the slit's opening reached her abdomen. Like a curtain, the dress opened to reveal those incredible legs and the black lace panties in question. His mouth fell open and watered at the sight. He had fantasized about this before—back when the notion of falling in love with this girl hadn't even entered his mind and April was folding laundry.

"Shit, Peyt. Those aren't new."

"Lucas Scott," she wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, "Have you been going through my panty drawer?"

He didn't bother answering.

Peyton's moan echoed in his mouth as their lips moved together feverishly and tongues collided. Lucas' comfortable weight pinned her back to the wall and his hips continued to grind into hers. He pulled away abruptly and she whimpered at the loss of contact. Then she heard the hurried sound of clothes rustling and metal scraping.

"Lucas?"

"Let me have this. Please."

He was on her again, his hands gripping her hips and tugging at the lace. With her hands on his shoulders to steady them, Peyton felt the front of his pants, unbuttoned and pressing against the exposed skin of her lower abdomen.

"Please, just let me have this," he pulled the lace down.

Momentarily dazed, Peyton's brow furrowed in confusion, "Y-You want my underwear?"

What he really wanted was answered when he dropped down to his knee and tossed one of her legs over his shoulder as he eagerly began to devour her sex. She threw her head back with her hands in his hair and a strangled moan escaping her parted lips.

"Oh god, Luke—oh."

While one hand steadied her hip, the other pocketed the lacy panty to avoid misplacing it (as they've done so many times before). Not once did he break his concentration. Through his own lustful haze, her fingers tugging unrelentingly at his hair, and the knowledge of possibly being caught—Lucas continued his pleasure inducing ministrations.

The muscles in her thighs began to tremble, threatening to give out under her own weight. His name became a mantra, a string of breathy words mangled with a continuous moan. Lucas pulled back, his eyes squeezing tight as he rested his forehead on her inner thigh.

"_Peyt_." He groaned, now painfully erect and his entire body crying out for her. He needed her, to feel her and be one with her.

Her hands moved to cup his face, "Get up here."

Once he stood full height, Peyton pushed at his suit jacket. As he shrugged it off, she pulled him to her by his silver tie. Her lips pressed to his, tasting herself with the tip of her tongue as it traced his bottom lip. While their lips melded in a flurry of desire, Lucas busied himself with pushing his pants and boxers down. Both items ghosted to the floor and gathered at his ankles.

Bending at the knees and tucking his hands under her dress, Lucas lifted Peyton up off the floor and her legs responded by wrapping around him. She was loosening his tie when he suddenly entered her. He grunted in her ear as she cried out and her fingers fisted the collar of his white shirt. One of his hands flattened against the wall beside her, bracing himself to keep them from falling. He felt dizzy, overwhelmed with everything he felt emotionally and the physical pleasure of finally being inside her.

"Shit," he cursed into the crook of her neck, "I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry."

He was always gentle with her; he didn't mean to take her so abruptly. To his surprise she brushed his hair back and kissed his temple. Her legs tightened around him as the point of her gold strappy heel dug into his skin, urging him on.

"Do that again," was her throaty response.

He lifted his head, blinking away the haze and taking in her features. Deep breaths passed her parted lips, the faded rouge enhanced the swell of her lips from the intensity of their kisses. Her wavy blonde hair shielded half of her face; without her usual tight curls, the true length of her hair currently reached mid-breast. Her long, thick lashes fluttered over her burning golden-green eyes.

Peyton's green eyes only tinted gold when she was sexually aroused.

Only he could know that.

_Only_ _him_.

Almost pulling out completely, Lucas thrust back into her as he had done before and earned a guttural moan from his precious love. They stayed still, unmoving—just feeling each other while they kissed and her hands did their usual exploring. She loosened his tie just enough to unbutton his shirt and run her hands over the contours of his muscles underneath the undershirt stretched across his lean torso.

Occupied with giving attention to her neck's pulse point, Lucas must've stayed idle too long for Peyton's liking. She clenched around him and his lips parted against her skin to mutter a curse as he gripped her tightly.

"Are you going to show me how you really feel or what?"

He pressed their foreheads together, pausing for a moment to regain his composure before speaking.

"You think you're ready for that?" He husked.

Peyton's eyes and lips clamped shut as he rotated his hips against hers; while still filling her completely, his slight movement stimulated her sensitive bud and she responded with a low hum of approval.

"Show me, Luke. Show me," her voice was faint as pleasure drove her body to roll her hips, "I want to feel it."

She wrapped her hands around his shoulders, gripping them for leverage as he began to move inside her. In and out, his thrusts slow, still powerful, but not as rough as the first two. The only way Peyton could describe it would as pure unadulterated passion. He was a man in love, a man showing her how he really felt by making love to her. But if this is what making love to each other felt like, then he had _always_ made love to her. Peyton nearly sobbed at the thought. _How could she have not realized this sooner_?

He watched her carefully—each sigh, every change in her features, the way she looked completely immersed in the movement of their bodies. He felt that only one thing was missing.

"Open your eyes, baby," He panted softly, their foreheads still touching as he watched her struggle to regain control of her hooded eyes, "Baby, open your eyes. I want to see those amazing eyes of yours."

Her eyes finally snapped open, the green of her irises shining with the intense gold undertone only he knew about. Lucas moaned against her lips, his eyes still locked onto hers as the friction increased between them.

- - - -

"Have you seen Peyton?"

"No, have you seen Lucas?"

Brooke shook her head and Haley's concerned brown eyes skimmed the dance floor for the third time.

"He was just here! He was dancing with Peyton," Haley sighed in frustration.

Brooke walked away, continuing to mingle with random guests as she discreetly searched the room for her best friend. That's when Haley saw her husband, downing his glass of water and the nervous bounce in his stance as he watched an abandoned corridor across the hall.

"Nathan."

"Hm?" He was distracted and didn't—wouldn't _dare_—look her way.

"Nathan!" She snapped and his blue eyes quickly met hers. "You know something. What do you know?"

"Nothing," he shook his head but it didn't work. Haley glared at him before taking off in the direction of the corridor. "Shit."

Nathan followed her, but somehow her shorter legs moved faster than his.

"Haley, wait!"

"What aren't you guys telling me?!" She hissed and he was about to deny any accusations when a muffled sound interrupted them. They stared at each other, brows furrowed and standing in complete silence. "Did you hear that?"

"Um—"

"That! Did you hear that?" she walked down the hall, listening and following the faint sounds coming from the furthest door.

Nathan reached for her, but it was too late. Haley's eyes widened when she peered through the door that had been left ajar. She knew the back of that head, she'd recognize those straight, sandy blonde spikes anywhere. Her best friend was having sex with some girl against the wall. But the red dress and the breathy, feminine sigh moaning out her best friend's shortened name gave it all away. This wasn't just some girl. It was Peyton. Lucas was having sex with Peyton.

Quickly covering her mouth and wrapping an arm around her waist, Nathan pulled Haley away before she could barge in and interrupt. Haley struggled as he dragged her far enough so that they wouldn't be heard.

"They are having sex!" she hissed when he finally released her.

"I know."

"You _know_?!" Her brow furrowed, "What do you _mean_ you know?!"

"No, look," he pinched the bridge of his nose, "I didn't mean it like that it's just…" his blue eyes pleaded with her brown ones, "This…this isn't the first time Haley."

"This—what?!"

"Lucas and Peyton, they're together. They have been for a while now."

"Nathan, they are having _sex_ two feet away from her father's holiday party!" She gestured violently to the room the two blondes currently occupied.

"Well what do you want me to do about it?!" He kept his voice low but harsh.

"I-I don't know!" her fingers rubbed the worry lines creasing her forehead, "Stop them, yell at them…something!"

"Haley, just leave them alone. They care about each other," he looked deeply into her concerned eyes, "Leave them be. He believed in us, I think it's time that you do the same for him."

In a flurry of movement, a petite brunette pushed past them without an apology or regard for courtesy.

"Is Peyton in there?" Brooke asked, not bothering to wait for an answer. One look into the room and her hazel-grey eyes widened and her mouth fell open. Nathan, once again, threw a hand over her mouth and pulled her away as Haley pressed a finger to her lips.

"Shh!" Haley motioned for Brooke to keep her voice down.

"There are people having sex in there!!" Brooke stated the obvious.

"We know that!" Nathan whispered.

"Well, who is it? Do I know them? Are they—"

"_Lucasss. Oh, Luuuke." _Peyton's faint voice filtered through the opened door and interrupted Brooke's questions.

Her jaw fell open, the corners of her lips pinched upwards and a mischievous glint entered her eye.

"No way," she rasped. "P. Sawyer and Tutor Boy?!"

Nathan rolled his eyes then grimaced when Lucas' voice now permeated the air.

"Okay, let's give them some privacy. We'll keep a look out until they're…um…we'll just wait for them, alright?" He looked between the two as he guided them to the other end of the hall.

Brooke's grin grew, "Way to go P!"

- - - -

Lucas had to admit, although Peyton was the more inexperienced one she was definitely in tune with her body. She usually had the upper hand and controlled the situation; she was the more aggressive one while he handled her like porcelain. Even when she was sure to leave scratch marks and love bites on his shoulders, he never marked her fair skin.

But this change—Lucas taking control of what he wanted and giving her exactly what she needed, it was a good kind of change. His touch was firm without being domineering. His thrusts went deeper with quick, long strokes that had her gasping for air. He sucked on her neck and his teeth grazed her flesh, bringing her sensatory pleasure to new heights.

This was all new to Peyton.

But he wasn't marking territory, she knew that. He worshipped her body and his caresses were still those of a gentle lover. A gentle lover on a mission to please her and make his love physical—he was succeeding at both things.

Lucas listened to her breathing, the soft puff of air hitting the thin fabric of his shirt. Her lips moved and he realized she wasn't just trying to regulate her breathing, she was whispering something.

"Peyton," he choked out, swallowing hard, "Peyton, baby."

She lifted her head and kissed him fiercely, drowning out their harmonious moan. Breaking from their lip lock, Peyton continued with her silent mantra. He leaned his head against hers, cheek-to-cheek, as he strained to hear the string of words she whispered over and over again. But he heard it this time and his whole world stopped.

"I love you. Oh god, I love you, I love you." She broke off with a strong moan and then continued, "…Iloveyou, iloveyou, godIloveyoubaby, Iloveyou…"

With two more pumps, he stopped all movement and looked at her in disbelief. His heart hammered in his chest for a million reasons. All sound travelling through his ear canal sounded far off and muffled except for her voice, the words she repeated over and over.

"Peyt?" He croaked. One hand brushed her hair away from her damp forehead as the other supported her light weight. She choked back a sob as her forehead rested against his.

"I love you too, Luke," she sniffled through her soft laugh, "I love you."

Lucas exhaled heavily, closing his eyes and feeling her soft lips pressing kisses to his nose, cheeks, and across the strong line of his jaw. A smile slowly spread across his lips as his hands moved back to supporting her body. He captured her lips with a moan and his hips pumped feverishly, racing toward a mutual completion that could only intensify this moment.

"I love you so fucking much, Peyt," he rasped against her lips as she clung onto him for dear life. She tilted her head back against the wall, feeling her orgasm nearing.

"Lucas. I'm going to—I—"

"Come for me, baby. Go ahead," he cooed.

The tips of her toes blanched as they pressed into the sole of her heels. The stiletto dug into Lucas' skin and he picked up the pace, knowing that she was on the edge. Peyton felt the raging fire in her stomach; every nerve ending in her body ignited, readying to unleash the rush of infinite bliss when the flame reached its final destination. Her arms tightened around him, her lips parted and eyes squeezed shut as the first sparks crackled.

Then the true fireworks came.

Launching forward, Peyton's body tensed and her mouth landed on his shoulder to muffle her scream. Lucas grunted into her hair as she continued to convulse and cry out into his shoulder. When she started to come down from her high, he felt his own orgasm approaching hard and fast. He reached between them and rubbed her most sensitive spot in a proven pattern.

"Luuucassss," she whimpered, feeling herself climbing back up.

"One more time, Peyt. Come again with me."

She pushed his hand away and he looked down to see her fingers working furiously, touching herself as where he left off. His blue eyes snapped up in awe, watching her lick her lips just before biting down on her bottom lip to stifle her moan. The visual alone was enough to send him to a young grave. His free hand braced against the wall as the dizzying feeling came back.

She heard his moan and she grinned, "Does that…"she gasped for air, "Does that help you, baby?"

He could only respond by kissing her hard on the lips. When her second orgasm hit, Peyton's teeth sunk into his shoulder with its intensity and triggered Lucas' release. He buried his face in her hair as he called out her name and spilled into her. His thrusts slowed, riding out the last moments of their euphoric high. Lucas' tired weight pinned her against the wall as they panted heavily, struggling to fill their lungs with oxygen. She stroked his damp hair while he continued to leave lazy kisses across her neck and shoulder. His racing heart beat erratically against her chest and she grew concerned.

"Luke, put me down," her legs loosened their hold but Lucas only pressed his weight onto her even more.

"Nuh-uh," he mumbled.

"Luke," she urged, "You heart, Luke."

Lucas sighed into her neck, then he wrapped his arms around her waist and walked them over to the executive chair at the head of the conference table. He sat down with Peyton straddling his lap as she adjusted to keep their torsos as close as possible.

"Better?" he asked, looking into her eyes with an amused smile.

She kissed him and nodded, "Much. I don't want anything to happen to you."

"Good, considering you love me and all…" he treaded carefully. He wanted her to mean it, he didn't want 'I love you' to be a phrase that she just said in the heat of the moment.

Peyton blushed, biting the corner of her lip as she shrugged bashfully. Lucas leaned forward, pecking her lips and brushing his nose against hers.

"Did you mean it, Peyt? Do you feel that way?"

"Yeah," she breathed softly, "I love you, Lucas. I just didn't know if it was real or not. But I do, Luke. I do love you."

He cupped the back of her neck, bringing her in for a sweet kiss.

"You don't think we're going too fast?"

She shook her head with a smile, "No. I like fast." They both chuckled. "Besides," she leaned into him with an Eskimo kiss, "I think I've been living in slow motion for too long. Don't you think so?"

"Life in slow motion isn't so bad," Lucas shrugged as he played with a strand of her hair, "I'd give anything to see the world the way you do, Peyt."

Her smile only grew as she kissed him again. Lucas took a deep breath and exhaled through his nose, not knowing how she'd take his next words.

"Peyt?"

"Hm?"

"I-I want to tell your dad about us."

"What?" She reared back, her smile gone and expression void of emotion.

"When I come back from Tree Hill I want to tell him that we're together." He elaborated, watching her brow furrow, "I want to be with you without hiding. I'll make him understand but I want to be here to show him how much I really do care about you."

Her fingers feathered through his hair, her nails lightly scratching his scalp as she mulled over his request. She exhaled through her nose, tilting her head forward to rest it against his.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

She nodded and he kissed the juncture between her jaw and ear, his lips trailed kisses along her cheek before kissing her softly on the lips.

"Thank you," he pulled her to his chest and wrapped his arms around her. His hands brushed through her long blonde hair and a smile crept along his face, "What're we going to do about your hair?"

They both burst into laughter, enjoying their care-free moment while it lasted.

- - - -

"Where do you think you're going?" Brooke snapped as the lovebirds clambered out into the hall.

Lucas whipped around and placed a hand on Peyton's lower back to steady her. The brunette approached quickly with an equally determined Haley and an apologetic Nathan following closely behind.

"We were, um, we're just headed back to the main hall," Lucas stammered. He nearly panicked when Brooke wrapped her fingers around Peyton's forearm and tugged her away. If Haley hadn't occupied the small space between the two blondes, he would've reached out to his girlfriend to bring her back.

"You guys are _not _going back like that," Haley laughed humorlessly. Her fingers worked hurriedly as she adjusted the knot in his tie and moved to fix the collar of his jacket.

His eyes snapped up to meet his brother's but Nathan stood a few feet away as a look-out to make sure no one entered the corridor. Then Lucas' eyes shifted to where Brooke held the hairclip in her mouth and her fingers combed furiously through Peyton's golden waves—apparently Lucas' lame attempt to replicate Brooke's handy work was a failure. Haley's fingers grasped his chin to turn his gaze back to her and he saw the crease between her eyebrows, the downturn corners of her mouth.

They knew. They knew that he and Peyton were together and somehow they knew what had just happened in that room. His cheeks burned in embarrassment but Peyton's soft laughter momentarily distracted him as he watched the two girls.

"Jesus, P. As scandalous and hot as that may have been, the least he could've done was give you a hickey that's easier to hide!" Brooke thought out loud as she searched her purse for her concealer. Peyton pursed her lips, stifling her laugh as she held a hand over the space just above her collar bone. Lucas knew that was where he had left his mark.

With a smirk, Brooke pulled the make-up out of her bag and Lucas heard her non-discrete murmur, "Sex at Daddy's Christmas party—you're definitely giving me a run for my money."

Peyton snorted back a laugh, covering her mouth and leaving the love bite on display with the removal of her hand. Her laugh was so contagious that he ignored Haley's glare as the corners of his lips tugged upward.

She eyed her best friend carefully as he watched Peyton from afar. The way he was smiling, the longing in his eyes for the blushing blonde standing a few feet away, and—if it was possible—those very same eyes seemed even bluer than she'd ever seen; they were all things Haley vaguely recognized.

She grabbed a tissue from her purse and rubbed away Peyton's red lipstick that smudged across his neck. Haley cleared her throat noisily and Lucas finally snapped his attention back with a permanent grin on his relaxed face. After two harsh wipes to his lips, Lucas touched her hand to stop her.

"I can do it," he murmured. Haley didn't return the smile but nodded. Lucas eyed her as he cleaned the red residue from his lip. "There?"

"Yeah," she looked away uncomfortably.

"Hales," He said her name softly.

When she turned her attention back, he quickly glanced in Peyton's direction, and then returned his gaze to Haley with a lopsided smile. He instantly became the boyish version of himself as his hands tucked into the pocket of his pants and he tilted his head to the side, shrugging in the process.

"I love her, Hales," his blue eyes lit up as he voiced his confession to someone other than Peyton, to his best friend, "I'm in love with her."

There was hope in his eyes. His facial features were relaxed and pulled tight at the same time. He couldn't stop smiling and it was all Haley needed to see. She just knew. A small smile formed and she nodded.

"Okay," she whispered, touching his shoulder as his smile grew in relief. "We should go."

"What about Peyton?" his gaze returned to the two girls.

His breath caught in his throat as Brooke worked on blending in the make-up on Peyton's love bite. Her head was tilted to the side with her golden waves cascading over one shoulder and he just wanted to touch the soft skin of her long neck. He wanted _her _all over again.

"Lucas," Haley coughed, noticing his changed expression and how his eyes trailed down Peyton's body. He looked away, to nothing in particular, and he sucked in a generous amount of air to regain his composure. "You guys shouldn't walk back into the hall together, it'll look suspicious."

"Okay," he nodded as he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. His eyes flickered back toward his girlfriend. "Could you just…can I—?"

Haley rolled her eyes with a smile, "Make it quick."

"Thanks," he sighed and wasted no time at all in making his way toward Peyton and Brooke. After tapping the brunette's shoulder, she turned to him with an expectant look.

"I'm sorry, but can I have a minute with Peyton?"

Brooke feigned annoyance as she stepped aside, "Fine. I didn't reapply her lipstick but don'tyou _dare_ mess up her hair!"

He nodded hurriedly, his eyes never leaving Peyton's wide smile and the way her eyes glittered with anticipation. Brooke barely had enough time to move away when Lucas pounced on Peyton like a boy getting the last of his favorite flavored Popsicle. In one swift motion, he pulled her toward him and his lips were on hers. It didn't matter that just minutes ago he had her in the best way possible; he could never get enough of her.

Lucas held Peyton with both hands on her waist, his larger hands practically wrapped around her slim waist as she arched into him. Their kiss was neither hurried nor slow. It was passionate and unrestrained. It was the medium between innocence and lust. It was the hunger of one soul's dire need to connect with its companion in the most discreet gesture of love.

Because that's what it was. Love.

Brooke's mouth fell open and her eyes widened dramatically as she placed a hand on her chest. She didn't mean to stare, but she'd never seen this type of intimacy before. Coming from dysfunctional parents and her own teenage escapades with the opposite sex, Brooke didn't believe in things like love and soul mates. She'd known Peyton for almost all her life and Lucas for a grand total of thirty minutes—but there was no denying that what she was seeing was more than just a mere kiss. It was above like and attraction and light years beyond _just_ sex. She was in awe.

"Wow," Brooke exhaled.

Their lips slowly parted and he held her, wanting to feel her for a bit longer. Peyton's eyes remained closed as she licked her lips and rubbed them together. He simply followed her every move in silence, committing everything about this night to memory.

"Guys," Nathan gestured that they should head back.

"I have to go," Lucas mumbled as his hands ran up her back and she nodded.

"I love you," Peyton whispered. His heart fluttered every time she voiced those three words.

"I love you too, Peyt." He mumbled against her lips before taking her bottom lip between his and gently sucking on its velvety perfection.

"Alright you two," Brooke chuckled. "I kind of need the girl currently attached to your face to finish up."

Lucas and Peyton broke away with a smile. His hands ghosted down her arms, cupping her elbows as he mumbled another goodbye. Immediately reacting to the absence of Lucas' warm body, Peyton wrapped an arm around her middle. As the Scott trio left the corridor, Brooke reapplied Peyton's lipstick and checked the custom made dress for any dead giveaways.

"Brooke," Peyton spoke after a few minutes of silence, "Can I tell you something?"

"That you're in love with that boy? I think I figured that out," Brooke joked, tucking a few strands of Peyton's hair into place.

"No—I mean, yeah, I do but…" She tried to hold back her laughter as her cheeks burned red, "I, um, I just realized that Lucas left with my underwear."

Brooke slapped a hand over her mouth and sputtering into her palm as she held back her own laugh.

"_Pey-ton_!"

- - - -

"Loverboy looks like he's stripping you with his eyes," Brooke mumbled into her glass.

"I know," Peyton smirked.

The brunette kinked an eyebrow, "You _know_?"

"Yeah, um, it's kind of hard to explain…" She bit her lip, "…even though I can't exactly _see_ him, I know when he's looking at me. I can feel it."

"It's like he's got x-ray vision with those baby blues," Brooke's lips pouted as she looked back at Lucas, "Do you think he knows you're going commando right now?"

"_Brooke_, _shush_!" Peyton hissed, her cheeks flaring up once again.

"Oh don't be shy, honey. I do it all the time."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Just not tonight," Brooke took a sip from her glass, "It's a formal occasion and there's a bunch of old guys around for Pete's sake!"

Peyton's lips screwed to one side as she bumped hips with Brooke.

"I'm really glad you came, Brooke. Not just tonight, but in general. I kind of needed my best friend."

"Anytime," Brooke pulled Peyton in for a tight hug and glanced over the blonde's shoulder, "Oh! Looks like Broody is coming over here so I'm gonna go over… somewhere."

She chuckled quietly to herself and her heart started to race when she felt a presence behind her. He stepped closer, far too close for two friends let alone for a strictly professional relationship. His cologne, still fresh despite their earlier actions, wafted through the air and Peyton took a deep breath, inhaling his distinct scent.

"Missing something?" He asked, nonchalantly.

A lopsided smile stretched to the right and her blush deepened, "Just one thing."

"I thought so," Lucas smirked, stepping closer to her warmth knowing that she could feel him better, "I was just standing over there, minding my own business, when I put my hand in the pocket of my jacket and found this lacy undergarment."

"I forgot," she smiled innocently.

"Me too," He smiled, his eyes searching faces to see who was looking before discreetly touching his fingertips to her lower back, "It's actually driving me insane knowing that you're not wearing anything under there."

-

"Sir, you don't look so well. Are you feeling alright?"

"Tell everyone to go home," Larry commanded as he stepped through the entrance, "Party's over."

"Sir?" The door man furrowed his brow and followed Larry, "But your presentation—"

"The party is _over_!" Larry growled, eyeing the defenseless employee and only satisfied when the doorman nodded. "Where's my daughter?"

A white gloved finger pointed toward the bar and Larry's brown eyes followed the doorman's eye line.

And that's how he found them.

Lucas practically loomed over Peyton's shoulder as his right hand slowly lifted to her lower back. He whispered something in Peyton's ear and his fingertips moved up and down over the back of his daughter's dress. Her eyelids covered her green eyes and she visibly swallowed hard. Larry launched forward, his steps purposeful and fists clenched painfully tight to his side.

-

"Oh shit," Nathan cursed, standing up straight and looking past his wife.

"What?"Haley asked and Brooke followed Nathan's eyesight. Larry had arrived and he was heading straight for the two blondes standing at the bar. He was _clearly_ pissed.

"Shit!" Brooke shoved her glass into the nearest person's grasp, "Shitshitshit!"

She took off with Nathan and Haley following not too far behind.

-

"We're heading back to Nathan and Haley's soon," Lucas' voice lowered, "I can follow you to the bathroom and give it to you there."

Peyton didn't get the chance to answer when a hand wrapped around her forearm and yanked her away from Lucas.

"We're leaving."

"Daddy?" Peyton stumbled and Lucas reached out to help steady her but Larry shoved his hands away.

"Don't you dare touch my daughter!" He hissed, trying not to draw attention them. Lucas' eyes widened and his brow creased in confusion.

"Larry?"

"Get the hell out of my face, boy."

"Dad!"

Brooke caught up to them as Larry rushed the confused blonde toward the exit and Lucas followed closely behind them.

"What's going on?" The brunette asked frantically.

"We're leaving, get your coats." Larry commanded. He looked back to see Lucas and the two other Scotts following him. "I told you to away from us!"

"Mr. Sawyer, I don't know what I did but—"

"I saw the goddamn video!" Larry snapped, cutting Lucas off and receiving only confused expressions, "I saw the _video_, you _sick_ bastard!"

Peyton was the first to realize what video he was talking about.

"Dad…" she said weakly.

"Get in the car, Peyton," He nearly shouted.

Lucas stepped forward, "Don't yell at her!"

"You shut the hell up!" Larry violently pointed a finger at him and turned to the two young teenaged girls, "Brooke, take her to the car _now_!"

"No, no, _no_!" Peyton struggled against Brooke's grip, "Dad, _don't_!"

"Peyton, if you don't get in that damn car right now then I'll have this boy thrown out of here in handcuffs if I have to," Larry threatened and Peyton finally stopped thrashing, "Go! _Now_!"

She hesitated, her features completely etched with worry and fear.

"It's okay, Peyt," Lucas spoke as soothingly as possible, "Go."

"Come on," Brooke softly encouraged, tugging at her arm. Peyton finally gave in and followed her best friend's guidance to retrieve their coats.

"Mr. Sawyer…" Lucas started once the girls were out of range.

"Have you had sex with my daughter?" Larry cut him off abruptly, his dark brown irises staring the young blonde down. Lucas' eyes widened and his mouth hung open, too shocked to respond.

Without any warning, Larry moved forward and reaching around Lucas to grabbing the wallet in the boy's back pocket. Before Lucas could voice an angry protest, he fell silent when the Larry fished out the condom from its hidden compartment inside his wallet. Larry stared at the foil wrapper long and hard before shoving the wallet into Lucas' chest and reaching into his own pants pocket. He pulled out the object he had found in the bottom drawer of the guest bedroom's nightstand—a condom with the exact same brand and type as the one he had just pulled out of Lucas' wallet.

His nostrils flared and his teeth clenched as his eyes bore holes into Lucas' frightened blue ones.

"I'm going to ask you one more time, boy," Larry's voice was hoarse and harsh to the ears, "_Are_ you, or are you _not _having sex with my daughter?"

Lucas swallowed before answering unsteadily.

"Y-Yes."

-

"We can't just leave him, Brooke!" Peyton cried as they walked toward the car. Tears trickled down her cheeks and the brunette's heart clenched at the sight.

"You heard your dad, Peyton. Nathan and Haley are there too, your dad isn't going to do anything stupid," Brooke attempted to soothe her worries but she knew Peyton wasn't convinced. She caught sight of someone lingering outside the entrance doors, taking a puff of his cigarette.

"Hey!" Brooke called out and he turned toward them, "Jackass, do us a huge favor."

"Name calling isn't going to get you anything, Bitchy," Jake deadpanned.

"Shut up and make yourself useful," she glared at him, "Go in there and make sure Larry doesn't kill Lucas."

"Lucas?" His eyes shot to Peyton's distraught tears, "What's going on?"

"Please, Jake." Peyton sobbed, "Don't let my dad hurt him."

He looked back to Brooke, seeing her softened and pleading grey eyes mirroring Peyton's.

"Alright."

-

"You sick son of a bitch," Larry growled, crumpling the foil packets in his fist and tossing them aside. He advanced toward the young blonde but Nathan stepped in and held out an arm as a barrier between Lucas and Larry.

Lucas shook his head, "You don't understand—"

"The hell I don't understand! I fucking trusted you!" Larry shouted as his face turned beet red, "I'm not paying you to have sex with my daughter! She is _not_ a goddamn prostitute, you sick freak!"

"What?!" Lucas shrieked in disbelief, "No! I fully respect your daughter, Mr. Sawyer!"

"Respect? Right." Larry scoffed bitterly, "That's some twisted sense of respect that whore of a mother of yours—"

Lucas bypassed Nathan's barricade and Larry's head snapped to the side with the impact of Lucas' fist. Nathan wrapped his arms around Lucas, restraining the fuming blonde as Haley stood back in shock. Larry staggered back then moved to retaliate when Jake rushed in front of him and held him back.

"Go home, Mr. Sawyer," Jake spoke firmly, pushing Larry back by the chest. "Peyton's waiting for you. Go home."

Larry rubbed his sore jaw, his eyes threw daggers in Lucas' direction, and then he took Jake's advice by taking a step back. Lucas breathed heavily, returning the glare Larry threw his way.

"Stay the hell away from my daughter, Scott. Stay away from her or so help me god—"

"_Larry_." Jake raised his voice. With one last threatening glance, Larry shrugged off Jake's hold and retreated toward the exit.

Lucas shoved Nathan away and brushed Haley off when she tried to hug him. He walked outside into the cold December air and watched the car pull away. His body lost all feeling as he sank down on the stone steps and he held his head in his hands. Haley sat beside him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"God, Hales…" he shook his head, "I _really_ screwed up."

"He'll come around, Luke. Give him some time."

He shook his head again, a hand covering his mouth as he mumbled into his palm, "That's not what I'm talking about."

- - - -

Larry rested his head in the palm of his hands as he simply watched the street lights passing by. His daughter's quiet sniffling and Brooke soft comforting words were the only sounds beside the mechanical buzz of the town car's inner workings. He licked his dry lips, staring straight ahead and working up the nerve to ask the question that had been plaguing his mind for the past five minutes.

"Just answer me this, Peyton," he paused, "Have you been using protection?"

She didn't answer.

"Peyton."

"Yes," her voice was bitter and full of emotion.

"Everytime?"

"Yes, Dad."

"Are you sure?"

"God, yes, Dad! YES!"

"Peyton…" Brooke whispered weakly, it was almost in the form of a question that Peyton quickly picked up on.

She instantly felt all color drain from her face and her grasp on Brooke's hand tightened. Fear flooded both girls as a mutual understanding passed between them. Larry turned in his seat and saw the worried look on both their faces.

"Peyton?"

She licked her lips nervously before answering, "We…we've always used protection, Dad. I _swear_."

"But?" He asked, fearing the worst. She held her breath for a beat.

"E-Except for tonight."

Larry closed his eyes and exhaled loudly through his nose, his jaw tightening.

"Frank, turn the car around," Larry spoke to the driver, "We're going to the clinic."

Brooke took a deep breath, giving Peyton's hand an extra squeeze as the car made a U-turn.

* * *

**A/N: **_I know, I know. I'm dragging this one night pretty long at this point. But this night will wrap up next chapter. Promise!_


	10. Chapter 10

**_A/_N:** _Sorry about the wait guys. I got a little held back with a last minute decision to study abroad this summer. Rest assured that this story will be completed before I leave in June, lol. Thanks for your patience, reviews, and reading! Another huge thanks to Kate for helping me work through this chapter and beta-ing, she's a true life saver!_

_Enoy!_

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 10**

She burst through the door, tripping over her own feet as she crossed the threshold of her childhood home. The heel of her stiletto caught on the hem of her dress for the seventh, maybe tenth time – she'd have lost count, _if_ she were counting – and she would have fallen had it not been for the hand that helped steady her.

"Peyton, _slow down_!" Brooke urged, holding onto her distraught friend.

Her green eyes felt heavy with a constant burning sensation, a new set of tears threatened to fall. The things _he_ had said — what her own father requested that she should do swirled in her mind. Those thoughts wouldn't allow for Peyton to slow down. Not for a second.

Something was said about a pill and Brooke's sudden objection to Larry's suggestion had made Peyton feel infantile, like a naïve child listening to two adults arguing about something she knew nothing about. But a quick explanation from Brooke was all it took for Peyton's blood to run cold as she demanded that the driver turn back around. At Larry's refusal, Peyton had forced the car to come to a screeching halt when she abruptly pushed her door open, determined to walk herself home.

"_Peyton!" _Larry shouted from outside.

Agitated and on the verge of a total breakdown, Peyton squeezed her eyes shut and cried out in frustration. Using Brooke for stability, she reached down to slip a finger through the strap of her heels, hurriedly kicking them off.

Peyton slipped out of Brooke's hold. Her trembling hand gathered the material of her dress, lifting the hem a few inches from the ground as she brushed past the concerned brunette.

"Peyton," Brooke spoke gently, touching Peyton's elbow but the blonde jerked away.

"No, Brooke." She snapped, her voice now thick with emotion, "Thanks for helping me get home, but just… just leave me alone."

Brooke moved forward, ready to follow, when the front door opened. Peyton immediately made a beeline for the stairs; Larry took long, powerful strides to reach his escaping daughter.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" He shouted after her but the question fell to deaf ears, "Peyton! I'm talking to you!"

Her only response came from her bedroom door slamming shut. Every single fatherly instinct kicked into overdrive as he took two steps at a time and his fist pounded on the locked door.

"Peyton! Peyton, open the door! Listen to me when I'm talking to you!"

"Mr. Sawyer," Brooke called from behind him.

"Don't you _ever _do that again! You hear me?" He continued to shout through the door, "You could have gotten yourself hurt jumping out of the car like that!"

"Larry," Brooke called once more.

His flattened palm came in contact with the wooden door, "Peyton, open the door!"

"_Larry, stop_!" she grabbed him by the elbow and tugged him away from her best friend's door.

Larry's head whipped around as he yanked his arm from her grasp, "What?"

Brooke took a step back, a deep scowl etched across her young features as she shook her head in shame, "What the _hell_ is the matter with you?"

His hardened features slowly dissipated with a sigh, "Brooke, you don't understand—"

"And you do?" Brooke cut him off.

"My seventeen year old daughter _just _had unprotected sex and refused to go to the clinic to get checked." Larry's tone and towering height didn't intimidate the smaller brunette. "Does she know Lucas' sexual history?"

"Larry, I may not know Lucas very well but—" Brooke's voice trailed off.

"How about who he's been with? _How _many? Has he been tested? What if he's given her a sexually transmitted disease?"

"He wouldn't do that to her."

"She _has_ to go to the clinic, Brooke."

"She's not ready for that."

"And you think I am?" Larry snapped, his voice gave way to his desperation. Brooke watched him with sympathy - he looked much older, tired and stressed beyond the limitations his body would allow. "Brooke, what…what if she's pregnant?" He asked softly.

She swallowed hard. Her grey-hazel eyes flickered to the closed door past Larry and she shrugged, "Then she's pregnant."

His face contorted in despair; that was not the answer he needed to hear right now. He couldn't phantom the possibility of his baby girl having a baby at such a young age. It was _too_ much _too_ fast. Bowing his head, Larry placed his hands on his hips and gave a defeated sigh.

"I-I didn't even know she knew anything about sex," he shook his head in thought, "I swear, if he—"

"He didn't," Brooke interjected quickly, with an urgency that caught Larry by surprise. "Whatever you are thinking, he didn't."

"What—"

"She – Peyton, she didn't…she wasn't clueless," Brooke smiled innocently, "I mean, I-I would tell her things and she had questions and—and," Larry's eyes narrowed as she stumbled over her words, "She was too embarrassed to ask you! What was I supposed to do?"

"You, you've been…" Larry spoke slowly, dragging out the words and suddenly feeling like the hallway was far too small for his own liking, "You and Peyton have been talking about _sex_?" With a sheepish grin, Brooke shrugged and laughed through the awkward confession. "Since when?"

"We're _seventeen_, Mr. Sawyer. She's not a kid anymore."

Each passing minute made him feel old, ignorant, and a failure as a father. Brooke's words hit him like a ton of bricks – he knew nothing about his daughter. For years he'd carried a mental image of Peyton as the little girl who needed her father's protection. He'd sworn to himself, and to Anna's memory, that he'd shield her from the ridicule, hushed whispers, and harsh alienation; it shattered his heart to see his eleven year old daughter being excluded by kids her own age. He remembered the sadness in her large green eyes, the confusion and fear of hearing and feeling everything but seeing nothing. She was too young and she needed him.

But she didn't need him anymore. She'd grown up whether he was ready for it or not and it all began to weigh heavily on his heart.

"I…I-I," Larry looked to the ground as tears clouded his vision. He then suddenly turned away and headed straight for his room, leaving Brooke in silence as her brow creased with worry. But right now she was concerned about one person and one person only.

She lightly tapped on Peyton's door, pressing an ear to the wooden surface as she spoke, "Peyton, it's me. Open up, _please_."

It was barely there, but she could make out the quiet sniffling and nothing more. Taking a step back, Brooke reached up to pull a bobby pin from her long brown hair. She crouched down to level with the copper doorknob; it didn't take long to jimmy the lock and push the door open.

A lump instantly formed in her throat as her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the red bedroom. Peyton lay on her side, her knees drawn up to her chest and an occasional sob jerked through her body violently. The sleeves of a zip-up sweater, much too large for her small frame, muffled her tearful hiccups and the red material of her dress tangled around her legs. Brooke couldn't have cared less about the wrinkles it would cause the dress she'd designed; her concern for the broken blonde carried her forward to sit on the bed.

Words were not exchanged, Brooke's gaze shifted to the head of blonde fur resting on the dip of Peyton's waist. Comet was a good dog, a dog that knew when to comfort 'his Peyton' whenever she was upset. He wasn't like most guide dogs – he wasn't even a guide dog at all. He was a gift from Brooke on Peyton's fourteenth birthday and together they named him Comet, after her mother's vintage Mercury Comet – which would have been Peyton's had it not been totaled and she had not lost her eyesight during the accident.

Comet's large, pink tongue noisily smacked through the stillness of the night as he licked his muzzle, yet his head remained within the contour of Peyton's waist. Brooke smiled, smoothing her fingers over the soft expanse of golden fur on Comet's brow. Her own brow wrinkled in concern as her eyes shifted toward her sniffling best friend.

"Peyton…"

"I can't…" she sounded small, like she was struggling to speak.

"Shh, I know," Brooke soothed, her hand now brushing back Peyton's curls, "You don't have to, Peyton. Your dad…he's just having a hard time is all."

Peyton's damp eyelashes stuck together as her lids pressed together tightly. A lone tear left a dark trail of mascara as it trickled over the bridge of her nose and spotted the red pillow beneath her cheek.

"Not just that," her thumb wiped away the tears tickling her nose, "Your dress. I-I can't get the zipper. I think I ripped your dress, Brooke."

The mattress springs shifted with the loss of Brooke's weight. Moments later, after she moved about the room, Brooke tugged at Peyton's hand so she would sit up and raise her left arm. Brooke lifted the large sweater, just enough to reach the side hook and zipper of Peyton's red dress. She only unhooked the clasp and lowered the zipper so it would be within Peyton's grasp.

"Don't worry about the dress, I can always make another or fix it," Brooke assured as she lowered the sweater and handed Peyton a clean change of clothes, "I'm a little bit more worried about taking care of _you_."

She wiped her damp cheeks and gave a half smile in response, "Thanks, Brooke."

Peyton stood on unsteady legs, taking the clean clothing with her as she began exiting the room. Brooke's hand shot out, gently grasping Peyton's elbow and turning her.

"Peyton, you're going to be okay," she said firmly as she watched Peyton's expression for understanding, "_Okay_?"

"Yeah," Peyton whispered in response. She tried to give Brooke another smile to calm her worries, but the quiver in her bottom lip was uncontrollable as she attempted to hold back her tears. The space between Brooke's eyebrows creased as tears blurred her vision.

"Com'ere," Brooke pulled Peyton into an embrace and her heart clenched as she felt Peyton respond with a tight squeeze. "You're going to be okay, I'm here now."

- - - -

His face contorted in pain, his fingertips pressed firmly and rubbed small circles over his sternum.

"Hey."

The voice coming from the entrance of the living room made Lucas' head shoot up. His quick reflexes caught the item tossed in his direction before he looked up to see his best friend. Lucas stared at the pill bottle in his hand, and then he gave Haley a questioning look.

"I know I'm not your favorite person right now," she pushed off the door frame and walked toward him with a bottle of water, "but you're still my best friend and I'd hate to see you rushed to the hospital for not taking your HCM pills."

Haley held out the water bottle, almost as a peace offering, and Lucas only eyed both items without meeting Haley's gaze.

"Luke," he finally met her saddened eyes, "_Please_."

With a heavy sigh Lucas pushed down and twisted off the white cap as Haley smiled inwardly. She took a seat beside him on the couch, a makeshift bed for Lucas while he stayed there, and watched him wash down the medicine with a swig of his water.

"Thanks," he whispered as his eyes focused on screwing the cap back onto the bottle, "for this and still letting me crash on your couch after I acted like a jackass tonight."

"I-I'm sorry," Haley shook her head, "You know I really mean that, right? For what I said to Peyton, I'm sorry."

"Haley…"

"No, listen," she scooted closer and reached for his hand. When she was met with her best friend's vulnerable blue eyes, her grip sandwiching his hand between hers only tightened, "I didn't know you two had something serious and even then I had _no_ right to say those things to Peyton. I've never had a filter between my head and mouth, you know that."

Lucas chuckled lightly and nodded in agreement.

"But if she makes you happy," Haley gave his hand a soft pat, "then I'll support you one hundred percent."

He placed his opposite hand over hers with a weak smile, "Thank you, Hales."

Her smile faltered as Lucas dropped his gaze.

"What're you going to do?" She asked tentatively as Lucas dropped his gaze once more, "I mean…what if she's—"

"I don't know," he responded so quietly that his voice was barely there.

"Luke…"

"I'm not giving up, if that's what you're asking," His eyes snapped up, meeting Haley's with conviction, "I won't give up on Peyton. Not now, not _ever_." Haley's lips formed a thin line and Lucas held her gaze without blinking, "I'm going to be there for her…" he swallowed the lump that formed in his throat, "and _if_ she's pregnant I'll there for our baby, too."

- - - -

"No, you're not listening to me, Daddy! I _have_ to stay in Tree Hill!" The fuming brunette yelled into the mouthpiece as she paced the guest bedroom, "Then I'll just get my GED but I am _not_ leaving!"

She was distracted by a noise coming from the hall. Quietly tiptoeing to her door, Brooke responded to her ranting father with a soft 'uh-huh' as she eased the door open, just a crack, to see Larry pass by. One of her dark eyebrows kinked upward in curiosity.

"Well, I'm staying. Deal with it!" Brooke spoke rapidly before snapping her phone shut and pocketing the device. "Jerk," she muttered under her breath.

She stepped into the hall and tiptoed to the top of the staircase, just in time to see Larry grab his car keys from the hook and leaving the house. The click of the door shutting behind him set the gears in Brooke's mind in motion. She snapped into action, barging into Peyton's dark bedroom and startling the half dressed blonde.

"Get dressed," Brooke ordered as she made for Peyton's closet.

"Well I was _trying _to until you barged in here like a mad woman," Peyton responded, simply reaching for the same oversized sweater and pulling it over her shoulders to dress her bra clad upper body. "What's with you?"

"_I_, my dear friend, am going to take you to Lucas," Brooke announced and succeeded in catching her best friend's full attention. She put one of Peyton's stepping stools in place and stretched to the tips of her toes to reach the top of Peyton's closet. "Seriously, I haven't grown an _inch_ since the last time we did this."

"D-did what exactly? Brooke, what are we doing?" Peyton asked, a hand placed out in front of her and ears straining to follow Brooke's voice.

She tried to suppress the flutter of excitement that erupted in the pit of her stomach, but anything that involved Lucas and hearing his name always had that effect on her. Brooke squealed as an avalanche of items toppled over her head and Peyton jumped back in fright.

"Brooke?"

"I'm alright, we're good!" Brooke brushed herself off as she stepped down from the stool and surveyed the mess she made, "But your floor is not. Here take this while I shove the rest back in."

Peyton held out her hands just in time for Brooke to pile a large laundry bag into her arms. The blonde teetered for a minute, taken off guard as she listened to Brooke scoop things up and literally shove it all into the closet.

"Are you insane? What are you doing, Brooke?" Peyton enquired while Brooke took the laundry bag back from her.

"Maybe a little, but once you see—" Brooke paused with a pensive look, "touch…are with…?" she shook her head before continuing her task, "_whatever_, you know what I mean. Once you're with Lucas, you won't think I'm so insane."

"But _how_? _When_?" Peyton continued to prod.

"_Now_. And you know how, Peyton, we did this when we were fourteen and we can do it again," Brooke adjusted the pillows on Peyton's bed then pulled the blankets up to create the age old optical illusion of a sleeping body.

"I-I don't know, Brooke," Peyton shook her head as she shifted nervously. The brunette turned to Peyton, pointing a rawhide dog bone at her, an image so comical that Peyton would not have been able to hold back her laughter if she had seen it.

"Do you want to go see Tutor Boy or not?"

Peyton swallowed hard with a timid nod, "Y-yes."

"Thought so," Brooke said as she turned to a very alert Comet who was eyeing the delicious rawhide bone in the raspy-voiced girl's hand.

"How are we going to get there? I don't even know Nathan and Haley's address and we don't have a car."

"Peyton," Brooke sighed in exasperation, "Why must you underestimate me? It's called a _taxi_, a cell phone with internet, and Daddy's money. Now put your damn shoes on before your dad comes home and we lose our chance."

"Comes home?" Peyton's nose crinkled, "Where'd he go?"

Brooke shrugged, "Beats me. Does it matter?"

Peyton stayed silent for a few moments as Brooke searched for Nathan and Haley Scott on her phone, "We, we're really going to do this?"

Her hazel-grey eyes met Peyton's nervous expression and she smiled softly, "Yes, P. Sawyer, we are. I may have moved across the country but nothing's changed – I'll do _anything_ for you."

For the first time since leaving the banquet, Peyton smiled and those butterflies in her stomach doubled in quantity and intensity.

- - - -

A lone tulip, maybe a week old at most, rested against the marble stone. The corner of Larry's lips pulled into a lopsided grin as he looked down at the fresh bouquet he held in his own hands. Peyton must have been there earlier in the week. His grin slowly faded when he realized that she was capable of going out on her own, without his knowledge or help.

It wasn't that he didn't want Peyton to find her independence – _of course _he wanted that for her. He just wished he had more time to adjust.

Larry took a step forward and placed the bouquet of tulips beside Peyton's frosted flower. He didn't even bother to take a step back as he kneeled before Anna's headstone and his chilled fingers retracted into the warmth of his coat pockets.

"What do I do, Anna?" His voice caught in his throat. Tears formed in his tired brown eyes but they would not fall from his already red-rimmed lids. "Please, tell me what I should do."

Only silence followed his plea, he knew that the answers would not magically fall from the sky, but this feeling was overwhelming and he'd never needed his wife's soothing words more than he did now. In the back of his mind he had known this day would come. The day that Peyton wouldn't need him anymore, she was a lady now – she had grown up. But it didn't make it any less frightening, just like the day her menstrual cycle came.

That very day, they had sat in an awkward silence for hours because he couldn't find the right words to explain that kind of thing to his innocent little girl. He had no one to turn to; Peyton had no aunts or uncles, he and Anna were the only children in their familes. He had finally given in and they found themselves on the Davis' doorstep, despite his distain with Victoria's mothering.

Larry hadn't known that the situation would make a turn for the worse, but it did, and Peyton was more confused than ever — Victoria was never one to have a prize winning mother-daughter relationship in the first place. It was only after saying his half-hearted thanks to Victoria that he went in search of Peyton's whereabouts in the Davis' home. When he had found the two preteens in Brooke's bedroom, Peyton had a large bear clutched to her chest as she listened to Brooke explain womanly things as if she, herself, was a grown woman. He lingered in the hall and tried not to listen to their private conversation, but he stood and listened for an opportune moment to suggest an impromptu sleepover.

That had been over four years ago. Yet, Larry felt like it had happened only yesterday and this whole sex talk and possibility of pregnancy came far too soon. He needed Anna. This time he _really_ needed her.

"S-She's growing up, Anna. Our baby is growing up a-and…"

Larry looked to the sky, the cold air intensifying the burning sensation against his skin and drying his tears before they could escape. He shook his head as he looked down and read the inscription on her headstone for what felt like the millionth time since her accident.

"I promised to protect her a-and…where did I go wrong? Tell me what to do, _please_!" A loud sob finally broke through his hardened facade and a warm tear streaked down his reddened cheek. "She needs you, Anna. I tried but I've screwed up so bad and I don't know h-how to do this."

His left hand reached out into the cold air and the ring, still on his fourth finger, glistened in the moonlight as he touched the cool grass. Another tear fell from his thin eyelashes, and then another until they came steadily in numbers.

"How do I do this without you, AnnaBaby? _Help me_."

- - - -

After his shower, Nathan entered the kitchen to find his wife standing by the island and nursing a cup of coffee, "You're still up?"

"I'm worried about him," she murmured, her eyes fixated on the hazelnut flavored drink in her mug. "You go ahead. I'll come to bed once Lucas falls asleep."

"In that case," Nathan pulled out a chair for each of them. "I'll keep you company since I'm too wired to sleep, too."

Haley slowly pushed herself off the counter and sat beside her husband as he watched her drink quietly. When Haley had asked Lucas to elaborate on his statement that "_he'd really screwed up"_ and his answer followed, Nathan had overheard. He was as equally shocked as Haley had been. Lucas had always been the responsible one, he was always careful knowing the hardships his mother had endured with an unplanned pregnancy.

"Did he take his meds?"

"Yeah," Haley breathed. She rubbed the space between her eyebrows before she met Nathan's warm gaze. "I know it was none of our business, but…but we _should've_ stopped them."

"Haley…" He shook his head.

"No, Nate," her voice shook as her eyes pleaded with his to listen. "What if she _is _pregnant? You should _see_ how scared he is. They're not ready for this and we could've prevented this if we'd stopped them!"

"Well we didn't know and what's done is done, Hales. I mean…would you have _really_ gone in there like a mad woman telling them to stop?"

"No," she pouted.

"Right, so," he reached to take her hand and she allowed him to, "just…do what you're supposed to do and support him."

She gave him a tightlipped smile. They both leaned forward for a sweet kiss and they were interrupted when a soft knock came from the front door. Nathan's brow furrowed as he checked his watch and Haley stood to see who came to visit at this hour. She flipped the porch light on and peered through the peephole.

"Nathan, go get Lucas," Haley commanded as she yanked the door open. He didn't waste any more time once the two very familiar teens came into view. "Come in, you guys. Come in," she ushered them inside.

"Sorry if we woke you," Brooke smiled uneasily. She held a firm grip on Peyton's hand as the nervous blonde trailed after her guide.

"No, no," Haley shook her head with a comforting smile, "You didn't wake us, it's fine."

"Peyton?" Lucas' voice echoed.

He rushed into the front room and Peyton's hold on Brooke's hand loosened immediately. She launched herself in his direction just in time for him to catch her in his embrace. Tears sprang into his eyes as he buried his nose in her curls and she clutched the front of his hoodie. She sobbed quietly into his chest and he only held her tighter.

"I'm sorry, baby, I'm so _so_ sorry," Lucas whispered brokenly into her hair and she sobbed uncontrollably. "It's my fault. I'm so sorry."

Brooke placed a hand over her trembling lip and tears prickled in Haley's large brown eyes. They both knew their best friends were hurting, they just didn't know to what extent, and seeing them now made their chests tighten with helplessness.

"Luke," Nathan called for his attention.

Lucas looked to Nathan who was gesturing to his and Haley's open bedroom door, offering them the privacy he knew Lucas and Peyton needed. Lucas nodded silently and without a word of warning he swooped down, lifting Peyton off her feet, and he carried her as she continued to cry on his shoulder. Nathan caught sight of his older brother's red-rimmed lids and the unshed tears that gathered in his blue eyes as he approached.

"Thank you," Lucas murmured with sincerity.

Nathan shook his head, brushing off the unneeded gratitude. "Just take care of her and don't worry about it."

As soon as the two blondes entered the room, Nathan closed the door behind them and turned back to his wife and Brooke. Both ladies blinked away their tears and wiped their eyes, a nervous laughter followed to cut through the awkwardness of all that had just happened.

"Coffee?" Nathan offered in discomfort.

"Yes," they answered in unison.

- - - -

It took a few minutes for her tears to finally subside to only the occasional hiccup or sniffle. Lucas still cradled her in his embrace as he sat with his back against the headboard. Peyton curled to fit the contours of his body and her head rested comfortably in the nook between his neck and shoulder. His large palm ran up and down the length of her leg, she had them pulled up to her chest and his soft motions were doing wonders to soothe her.

"Luke?" Her voice shook with its lack of use. "What are we going to do?"

"I'm so sorry," he murmured as he pressed a kiss to her hair. The hitch in his voice caught her off guard; she'd never heard him sound so broken and emotional. "I-I'm so sorry, Peyt."

Peyton's brow furrowed as she lifted her head and twisted to face him fully, "Lucas?"

She touched his cheek, the tips of her fingers brushed against the strong lines of his facial features and she felt traces of fresh tears coating his skin. Lucas took her hand in his and firmly kissed her fingertips.

"It's all my fault. I'm sorry, baby, I'm so sorry," his voice broke off with a sob he had tried to hold back.

Pulling her hand from his grasp, Peyton cupped his face and let her thumbs run across his damp cheekbones. Lucas saw her bottom lip tremble and her green eyes glaze over with her own tears.

"Luke, you're _crying_?"

He shook his head, "I screwed up, Peyton. I screwed up _bad _but _please_ don't cry for the mistakes I've made. I'm _so_ sorry."

"Lucas, don't," she leaned into him, pressing her forehead to his; she still cupped his dampened face in her tiny palms. "I did it, too, Luke. I-I didn't stop you; I wanted to be with you just as much."

"But I _knew_ better! I _know_ better, Peyton," he spoke angrily through gritted teeth. He was angry with himself for having lost himself in a lustful haze when she was counting on him to take care of her. "Don't you get it? I've ruined everything."

She pulled away with a worried expression on her face, "W-what? What does that mean? What do you mean _r-ruined_?"

His blue eyes widened. He quickly buried his hands in her blonde curls, cupping the back of her head to pull her back to him.

"No, no! That's not what I meant, not at all. I just," he scanned her delicate features, taking in her youth and innocence as she hung onto his every word. "Peyton, I-I love you and I'm just afraid of losing you. I don't want to lose you."

"You're not," she shook her head, and if he wasn't holding her hair back then those curls would have bounced with her quick movements. Scooting forward onto his lap, Peyton sat impossibly close to Lucas as their foreheads touched in the space between them. "You didn't ruin anything and you're _not_ going to lose me."

His fingers combed through her soft curls. Her eyes focused on nothing in particular other than what seemed to be a fixated spot on Lucas' face, but Lucas' tearful blue eyes remained fixated on the bright emerald irises before him. The amount of strength this girl possessed was admirable, but he knew she was just as broken and afraid as he felt. _He_ should be comforting _her_, not the other way around.

"I'm so stupid," he murmured, "If I just kept my jealousy in check and Lucas Jr. in my pants then things wouldn't have gotten so bad."

Peyton's lips pressed together to suppress the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, "Lucas Jr.?"

"_Yes_, Lucas Jr.," he smiled at Peyton's amused expression, "Do you have a better name?"

"You were jealous?" she asked. She felt him nod and his hands dropped to grip her hips.

"Of course I was jealous. Seeing you there with Jake and knowing…_things_," the tip of his nose brushed against hers, "You looked so beautiful and I was feeling insecure."

"Wow, Lucas Scott feeling insecure," she mused as she lightly bumped her nose against his.

"Mhm, you're so beautiful and you don't even know it," he breathed. "You may not see it, but I notice other guys looking at you."

"When?" She deadpanned with a smile. "I never go out."

"Oh, trust me, they look," he said, as he took a peek for himself. The large zip-up sweater she wore was all too familiar. His finger tugged at the hood's string and his voice dropped to a low whisper, "You're wearing my sweater."

Peyton coyly shrugged a shoulder, "It comforts me."

Lucas grinned, nodding his response, "Good. Keep it."

"It's losing your scent though."

Lucas fully enjoyed every minute of her shy admission as her cheeks filled with a pink tinge. He leaned back and pulled the hooded sweatshirt up over his head. Peyton simply bit down on her lip with a small smile as she felt his movements.

"Here," he held out the garment, "I wore it yesterday too so it should be fairly saturated with my stench."

"Shut up!" Peyton chuckled as she backhanded his now tee shirt clad chest.

"Go ahead, put it on."

Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I, um, I don't have anything under this. I mean, I _do_…but its not really _clothing_ appropriate attire."

"Oh."

"Yeah," she laughed uneasily.

"Well," his eyes trailed down to the zipper before looking up at her boyishly, "it's nothing I haven't seen before, right?"

She gave him a knowing, but shy, smile, "I know."

"I can turn around if you'd like?"

"It's not that."

"Peyt," he placed a hand on top of hers, "I'm not going to try anything if that's what you're worried about."

"No, Luke, it's not that," she shook her head.

"Then what?"

He knew the answer. When her shoulders sagged and that crease in her brow came forth, he knew. The deep sigh and tears that formed in her eyes told him all he needed to know. Lucas looked down and he shook his head.

"I should have been more careful," he raised his head to find Peyton on the verge of tears.

"My dad, he knows." she whispered.

"I promise I'll make it right. I'll fix this—"

"He wanted me to go to the clinic," Peyton blurted out before Lucas could finish. He froze, taken completely off guard by her outburst.

"What?" His brow furrowed as he leaned in.

"I-I had to get out of the car, I couldn't be in there anymore. He said something about a pill and—"

His eyes widened and his grip on her hand tightened, "What happened, Peyton?"

"I couldn't do it. Brooke, s-she walked me home because I couldn't stay in the car. I'm sorry, I just couldn't go there!"

He pulled her flush to his chest as his calloused palm smoothed over her blonde curls and she clung to the front of his tee shirt.

"Don't be sorry. Don't _ever_ be sorry," he whispered before pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"I think my dad is mad at me," Peyton mumbled.

Lucas kept a tight lip or else he would have had a few choice words for Larry Sawyer – he had many _colorful_ and inappropriate things to say to that man. But he wasn't important right now. No. The most important thing was the fragile blonde he held in his embrace. His larger hands cupped her face as his thumbs wiped away her tears.

"Listen to me. I'm going to fix this No matter what it takes I'm going to make this right. I'm _not_ going to let you go that easily," his eyes trailed down to, for all he knew, her still flat stomach before snapping back up to her green eyes. "And if you happen to be pregnant with my child, I'm going to be there for you and our baby."

She was speechless, completely awestruck by the determination fueling his words. Peyton knew he was a passionate man and very articulate. There was no doubt in her mind that he'd stay by her side and step up to father her child – if she did, in fact, turn out to be pregnant. But knowing and hearing him voice those words were two different things. Suddenly, she didn't feel so afraid and confused. A warm rush of calm and adoration filled her body, pushing away every negative thought that had plagued her mind for the past few hours.

Lucas wasn't prepared for her to launch forward into his arms; her weight caused him to fall back against the headboard as her lips pressed firmly to his. Her arm wrapped around his shoulder and those long fingers threaded through the hairs at the back of his head. All Lucas could do was hold Peyton steady by the waist and enjoy the ride as his lips moved fluidly with hers. In that moment they felt a thousand times lighter; it was if the weight of tomorrow's possibilities had been lifted and it was just the two of them. It was Lucas and Peyton and the love that had brought them to this very moment.

"Mmm, okay," Lucas broke away, breathing heavily as he averted his eyes, "That, that was good. _So _good, but we should stop before I really do try something."

Peyton sat back on her legs with a sly smile upon her swollen lips, causing Lucas to swallow hard when her fingers THE touch lips he'd kissed. The hooded sweatshirt on her lap was once again in his possession and those very same fingers were pulling down the zipper of the sweater she wore.

"Woah, wait," Lucas sat up straight in panic. "What're you doing?"

"_You_ are going to help me put_ that _on."

Peyton shrugged the sweater off and Lucas made sure to keep his eyes focused on her eyes. She waited for him to take the next step with a devilish smirk firmly planted on her rose petal lips. His hands bunched the material of his hooded sweatshirt as he proceeded to pull it over her head. That all too familiar head of golden, bouncy curls made it through the opening and he watched as she effortlessly threaded her arms through the sleeves. As expected, the size of his sweater drowned her tiny frame and the hood over her head covered her eyes. He adjusted the hood as she sniffed the collar that hung loosely around her neck.

"All better," she breathed. "See, I trust you."

He gathered her in his strong embrace and left a sweet, lingering kiss on her lips, "Thank you."

Then all seriousness enveloped the space between them once again.

"You leave tomorrow," she said, as her knuckles moved back and forth over this chest.

Lucas had nearly forgotten about that. He shook his head and wrapped his arms around her, "I'm not going to go."

Flattening her palm on his chest, Peyton pushed herself up, "What?"

"I can't leave. How can I leave you at a time like this, Peyt?"

"But, your mom and dad, they're waiting for you. Luke, you _have_ to go."

"Peyton—"

"I'll be fine," she insisted with a slight nod. "Besides, we won't know for a while, right?"

There was a light rap on the door and Lucas' jaw clenched in frustration. Now was not a good time to be interrupted.

"Can I come in?" Brooke's muffled question came through the door.

"Yeah, come in," Lucas replied. It had taken a great amount of effort to withhold the irritation from his tone.

Brooke slowly stepped into the room with an apologetic smile and Nathan soon followed.

"Sorry to bother you guys," she clocked the impatient look on Lucas' face, it didn't make her next words any easier, "Peyton, i-it's getting late. We should get going."

"Can you give us five more minutes?" Peyton turned her body as she spoke.

As if on cue, Brooke felt her phone buzzing in her pants pocket. She gasped in surprise and placed a hand over the offending item, afraid to even look at her phone and see _his_ name on the screen.

"Peyton, I'm sorry but we _really_ have to go."

"Please, just five minutes," Lucas pleaded.

"Luke," Nathan spoke up, "They _have_ to go."

They'd arrived at a standstill as the insistent buzzing in Brooke's pocket stopped. Peyton sighed heavily and moved to get up.

"Wait."

"Lucas," Nathan shook his head.

"How are you guys getting back?" Lucas chose to ignore Nathan.

"The cab is waiting outside," Brooke responded.

Lucas stood up alongside Peyton, his eyes searching the room for his car keys, "Nate, tell the driver they no longer need his service."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Peyton touched his chest, "My dad—"

"I'm not scared of him," he cut in and Peyton felt a flutter in her chest. "He can try to break me but I'm not going to budge. I'm in this for the long haul so _I'm_ driving you two."

"Then I'm coming with," Nathan offered.

"Nate—"

"I'm going with you," Nathan reiterated as he pulled Lucas' car keys from his pocket, "and I'm driving."

- - - -

The soft roar of the engine and gentle rocking motion of the car caused Peyton to fall asleep in Lucas' embrace. While the broody blondes occupied the back seat, Brooke sat in the passenger seat beside Nathan as he navigated the dark streets. Lucas couldn't stop staring at the slumbering angel in his arms. Compared to the state she was in when he'd rushed to greet her earlier, she now looked so peaceful in her sleep. He never thought he'd feel so much for one person beside his family and Haley. But he did. God did he love this girl.

"Maybe it's best if you stay in the car, Lucas," Brooke suggested nervously.

He looked up to find they were approaching Peyton's house. The porch light had just flickered to life, and when they pulled up to the curb the front door swung open.

"No," Lucas shook his head as he gathered Peyton, who was still fast asleep, into his arms, "Nate, can you get the door for me?"

Brooke's heart hammered in her chest. _Was he trying to get them killed?_ Without a second thought, she jumped out of the car and raced up the path to meet a furious Larry Sawyer.

"Where the hell were you two?" Larry shouted. "I nearly called the cops! Where is your phone?"

"Shh!" Brooke held him back with a flattened palm on his chest. "She's asleep. She finally calmed down."

Confused, Larry looked past Brooke's shoulder to see Nathan holding the door open for Lucas as he cradled a sleeping Peyton in his arms.

"The son of a bitch," he growled, and then he directed his anger towards Brooke, "What the _hell_ were you thinking bringing that sorry ass—"

"Shut up!" Brooke abruptly cut him off with a perfectly manicured finger in his face and her nostrils flared in anger. "Save it. I don't want to hear whatever ugly things you have to say and neither does Peyton_. _So_ back off_."

Larry's jaw clenched, his attention had diverted to Lucas as he neared, but he heard every word Brooke had said. Blue clashed with brown eyes in an intense glare. Brooke felt the heat of tension in the air and she prayed Larry wouldn't try anything. Bringing Peyton even closer to the shelter his body offered, Lucas held Larry's fiery stare as he continued to walk up the path toward the front door. Larry turned to follow and Brooke grasped his elbow which he easily brushed off.

Lucas entered the house and carefully took the stairs to Peyton's bedroom. He felt Larry's presence close by but he paid him no attention. Comet emerged from the bedroom and wagged his tail happily to see his Peyton had returned.

"Shh, down boy," Lucas whispered as quietly as possible.

To Larry's surprise the dog immediately obeyed Lucas' orders and the golden-haired pup sprawled out on the floor just outside Peyton's room. Brooke pushed past Larry and followed Lucas into the bedroom. She quickly went to work on pulling back the covers, which included the removal of the prop pillows, to make Lucas' job easier and he gave her a smile of gratitude. All Larry could do was watch from his place in the hall as the two treated his precious daughter with such care.

It felt like déjà vu when Lucas gently settled Peyton onto the mattress. The whole situation felt very reminiscent of the first night they had innocently shared a bed and she'd asked him the color of his eyes. The memories flooded through his mind and Lucas grinned as he moved down to help Brooke remove Peyton's shoes.

"Luke," Peyton mumbled as she began to stir.

"Hey," he abandoned the task and moved to brush the curls away from her face. "You're home, go back to sleep."

"Stay," she wrapped her fingers around his wrist and followed her actions by giving him a weak tug.

Lucas took a moment to glance in Larry's direction, his eyes held no kindness for that man but they immediately softened when he looked back to the fluttering eyelashes of his girl. After slipping Peyton's shoes off, Brooke stepped into the hall and tried to pull Larry away from the door. But he wouldn't budge and his eyes remained glued on the two blondes. Lucas leaned forward, his lips brushed on the smooth skin of her forehead and her gentle tug became more insistent.

"I've got to go," his breath tickled the bridge of her nose and those emerald eyes finally fluttered open for a moment before drooping closed. "I'll be back before you know it."

"Mkay, you'd better," she slurred. "Love you."

That never got old.

"I love you, too," he held her curls away from her face as he swooped down for a goodnight kiss.

It was discreet enough for the pair of hawk like eyes that watched from the hall, but Lucas let the kiss linger long enough to commit it to memory. And it served to prove a point to Mr. Larry Sawyer that what they had was the real deal, though he had nothing to prove to that man right now. One kiss wasn't nearly enough. Just after pulling back, Lucas leaned forward to place one last quick peck to her lips. This time he was rewarded with a moonlit smile from his half asleep girlfriend.

Larry lingered in Peyton's doorway even after Lucas walked past him. The boy's blue eyes burned a hole right into the depths of his retinas with his glare. He finally snapped out of his momentary daze and followed Lucas' trail to the front yard.

"Lucas," he called from the door, Brooke's quiet plea behind him was ignored.

Halfway down the walkway, Lucas stopped. His face turned to the dark sky to summon whatever tolerance he had left for Larry before turning around in his spot. An exchange wasn't made; Lucas had nothing to say to him. Actually, he did, but he'd rather not make a scene after the day they'd all had. So he stood there and waited for Larry to say what he needed to.

"If I wasn't clear before," Larry began as calmly as he could, "you're fired."

That didn't shock him. Not one bit.

"That's it?"

"And stay away from Peyton."

Lucas' brow shot up, "You can go ahead and fire me, _Sir_, but you can't keep us apart."

"Watch me," Larry challenged.

"No, _you _watch _me_," Lucas growled through gritted teeth as he took a few steps toward Larry.

"Luke!" Nathan was ready to move at a moment's notice. Lucas stopped in his tracks with a dry chuckle.

"You don't see it, do you?" Lucas asked. He shook his head at Larry whose brow wrinkled at the question. "I love Peyton. We love _each other_."

Larry didn't respond. The blonde pushed his hands into his pockets as he backed away.

"Do what you want, Larry. I'm not going anywhere. I know that and Peyton knows that," before turning his back on Larry, a trademark Lucas Scott smirk accompanied Lucas' departing words, "I think it's about time you learn that, too."


End file.
